


The Serpent and the Slave

by enaykin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slash, Slavery, Slow Burn, Tevinter, Tevinter Imperium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 165,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enaykin/pseuds/enaykin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Lavellan was not always so. The Dalish not always born Dalish. Kaim was a slave from Rivain, sold to Tevinter, and noticed by a certain Magister's son. From slave to Inquisitor, the journey is sure to be a long one.</p><p>Rating was increased from Mature to Explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Headcannon I've had rolling around for too long to keep it pent up anymore. Its continuation will greatly be dependent on both time and responses. Please let me know what you think! Even just a few words are appreciated!

[ ](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/121145263580/dance-was-in-his-blood-it-sang-to-him-it-moved#notes)

“It is time,” a rough voice brought the small elf’s head up and he nodded mutely, his eyes still trained on the ground dutifully. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had his head bowed in submission, his eyes lowered to the floor. Couldn't remember because he didn’t want to. Those were the kinds of memories that kindled horrible things like hope. Hope was useless to someone like him.  
  
Obediently he stood and followed his task master. The one thing that had always brought him joy had become a link in the chains that bound him. For a few blessed moments when he was turned loose to take the floor he was allowed the illusion of freedom, his wings spread given room and audience and he was able to fly. When the music ended the darkness would descend once more, and he would once more be a slave, but for those fleeting moments, when his feet moved across the space in silent grace, he was free.  
  
Dance was in his blood, it sang to him, it moved him, it coursed through his veins, it was the very air he breathed. His earliest memories were of the dance school in Rivain, moving with his brothers, gliding to the song, his favorites were the song of silence, filled only by his breathing and the music that flowed in his head. His feet painted splashes of color across the imagination, his hands spun gold through the air, his body a living work of art.  
  
And he danced.  
  
The older boys had whispered of ‘advanced’ training to come and when he’d been old enough the dance had changed. Just as graceful and full of art, but the medium was crimson. By the tender age of ten he was skilled in dance of many kinds, including shadow and death. His skills had never been called upon, the ‘bloodletting’ happened at fourteen or fifteen, but he was proficient nonetheless. And the bloodletting never happened. His world had crumbled upon itself with the arrival of a man he would later learn to hate and fear. A man he would know only as ‘master’, but whom others referred to as ‘magister.’  
  
The price had been high, or so he’d been told. As an elf of small stature he was often mistaken for a female, his unearthly beauty did little to deter this mistake, and many a disappointed man had raised hand against him, as though it was purposeful. At age ten his life became a living hell of one pain after another. All that saved him from an early grave was indeed his beauty and grace. It would be a waste to kill him, or so he had heard repeatedly.  
  
And he danced.  
  
A body he had never had the chance to grow into and understand became the property of greedy men. It was not long before he had no more tears to cry on the matter. As long as he had the dance he was able to survive, those moments of absolute freedom were all he lived for.  
  
Even as he became a man, his chest filled out, his features sharpened, his shoulders broadened, he was still smaller in stature than most of his kind. Elves. Even his ears were longer and more elegant than most. Amongst the other slaves was no better. The males ridiculed him, the females were jealous, and many simply desired him. Some masters saw to it he was protected as a precious commodity. Others were more lax and cared less. Even the light scars on his neck, wrists, and ankles did little to detract from his appearance, and many a time they simply covered them with jewelry when he performed.  
  
More than once he’d considered ending it. It would be so simple, he was trained in techniques that hardly required a weapon and would be over quickly. But every time he teetered over that precipice he would pause, as though he was waiting for something. For someone. Always he was alone, no one came to save him, to give balming word, or whisper a false sense of worth. Regardless, he couldn’t shake that feeling. And it stayed his hand time and time again.  
  
And he danced.  
  
The music began and pulled him back to present. With a deep breath that expanded his chest he squared his shoulders, kept his head bowed, feeling the roll of the gold chains across his skin as his breath swooshed in and tore out from his lungs. Already he could feel the heady surge of adrenaline and he resisted smiling, his face carefully neutral, as it always was. The doors opened.  
  
Silent steps carried him onto the dance floor, followed by his less elegant support dancers. They would be ignored. His body would move of its own accord to the music, and they were expected to keep up and stay out of his way.  
  
And so he danced.  
  
\---  
  
Dorian was of an age where parties were the grandest thing anyone could possibly suggest, and usually he went out of his way to attend as many as humanly possible. This was made extraordinarily easy by his uncommonly good looks and his family's social and political standing. Tonight's party, however, was one he wouldn't have minded missing.  
  
Grandfather was dead.  
  
Tonight celebrated his father's rise and ascension to coveted magister, an honor Dorian was beginning to believe wasn't so much of an honor as he'd been groomed to. Despite his father's every effort and fervent wishes through his upbringing and education, Dorian increasingly became disenchanted with Tevinter and its backward politics. The more he learned the less he wanted anything to do with it.  
  
Especially his father's announcement this morning.  
  
"Dorian," he'd said, "with my appointment it's occurred to me that we will have access to the very best associates. Now that you are sixteen it's high time we decided on a match for you. One fit for an archon!" his father had preened while his mother clapped her hands excitedly.  
  
"Marvellous! Tonight's festivities will be the perfect opportunity to begin weeding out the undesirables and set a line up!"  
  
It concerned Dorian how excited she was over this and he watched in dismay as she pulled pen and quill and began bantering names back and forth with his father. With each name Dorian cringed a little more before he rose gracefully to his feet and excused himself with the lame excuse of a headache.  
  
In the arching hallway his father had caught up with him.  
  
"Son, I know you well enough to see something troubles you," his concern was touching, but it was misplaced.  
  
"I will not marry, father. You know this already," they had been through this argument, though Dorian feared he hadn't heard the end of it.  
  
"Dorian..." his father warned.  
  
"Don't ' _Dorian_ ' me father. I will not marry someone just to not give you grandchildren regardless because I won't budge long enough from my books to sleep with her. I'd rather stay single!" if only his father knew the real reason he’d shown no interest in the young women around him.  
  
His father's face turned three shades of red.  
  
"We have discussed this-" his father's voice held a warning Dorian chose to ignore.  
  
"Draw up a contract, choose a girl for me, do as you wish, but I will not play along. All I care about are my studies," Dorian turned on his heel and strut for the door as only a nobleman's son would be capable of doing.  
  
"You will never rise in rank without the elevation of a wife!" his father snapped harshly.  
  
Dorian waved a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he left and heard his father make an inarticulate noise of rage before returning to the drawing room and his wife.  
  
The boy's heart clenched painfully in his chest, he used to be his father's greatest admirer and supporter. But with years came wisdom and perspective, as much as a sixteen year old could possess at any rate. Dorian discovered to his dismay that most of his father's lofty ideals were hypocritical. He claimed to be a man of honor, but he wasn't above using those he believed beneath him to gain what he wanted.  
  
The discovery that his sexual preference was not something tolerated in the Imperium had come as a rude wake up call for him one morning a year or so ago. It was something he’d known and accepted as normal about himself all through his youth and as such had never made mention of it to his father. When he hit puberty however, things began to change and sexual desire manifested, resulting in an embarrassing and heart shattering revelation.  
  
His first time had been fast, confusing, painful, and not gentle at all. Once he’d been used he was cast aside and threatened. He wasn’t to tell anyone or risk ridicule. When questions had been voiced he was slapped down painfully and told to shut his mouth. Nothing about it felt right and it was a long time before he trusted anyone into his bed again. Each time it was hushed, rushed, and treated as something shameful. Finally an older and kinder partner took pity on the confused boy and explained to him what they felt wasn’t _natural_. It wasn’t allowed in the Imperium.  
  
Wasn’t allowed? Wasn’t _natural_? How was it not natural if that’s the way he felt?  
  
Through research and small dropped hints it was a dismaying realization he’d never truly be allowed to be himself. Homosexuality was whispered about, aberrant, accepted as practiced-the same way blood magic was-but constricted to dark corners, rumor, and closed doors. He would never be allowed to be openly gay. To take another man as a partner and be accepted was unheard of.  
  
For months he struggled with this, brooding silently on the inside, while outwardly playing the part of the perfect son. It wasn’t until recently when talks of marriage began that things reached a boiling point.  
  
This festering in his chest was only compounded by the discovery his father had ordered the elimination of a rival to his political machinations in the magisterium. Such practices were common and entirely accepted, but not by _his_ father. Or so he had thought. Just as he’d instilled Dorian with the understanding that blood magic was the resort of a weak mind, so too were these practices supposedly considered. Apparently not when the title magister was soon upon him.  
  
Dorian’s grandfather had brought House Pavus far, but apparently it was not far enough for Magister Halward. No, he had visions of Archon for his son. Only the best would do. How much more blood would be required to bring this to fruition? It mattered not that no actual magic was involved, his father still had blood on his hands. How much more did Dorian not know about?  
  
All of this found Dorian in a sour mood when they arrived for his father's celebratory banquet and he shunned even the affections of his friends, preferring to sit, drink, and brood in sulking silence.  
  
"Your son appears rather put out this evening," Gallus commented with a smile, having succeeded his own father in the magisterium only a few years prior.  
  
"Oh you know teenagers," Dorian’s mother rolled her eyes, her fingers delicately fluttered her husband's silk clad arm, "when they don't get their way they let everyone know!"  
  
Halward could have kicked his wife.  
  
"Oh? And what was the poor boy denied to put him in such a sulk?" Gallus asked silkily.  
  
"Believe it or not he's been enthralled lately with Mortalitasi theorem and I pulled him from his studies to attend my inconvenient celebration," his father preened. It wasn't a complete lie, and those were always the most convincing.  
  
"Ah, yes. Alexius had mentioned something about the boy's new interest. Bravo indeed, a worthy school of study. And speaking of which, I believe congratulations are in order. Patronage under Alexius is no small feat for a boy his age," Urathus joined the conversation.  
  
Dorian's father inclined his head with a smug smile.  
  
"Well, tonight's entertainment should serve as distraction. We spared no expense,” Vyrantus commented with a silky smile from his perch on the sofas nearby.  
  
"You honor us," Dorian's father said haughtily.  
  
"The honor is ours, _Magister_ Halward."  
  
Music floated across the ballroom, indicating the entertainment was about to begin and the attendees eagerly obtained places on fetes, divans, and elegantly stuffed chairs about the edges of the room. Dorian leaned languidly against a pillar near one corner, nursing his next cup of wine. It wouldn't do to totally get sloshed and embarrass his father on his big evening, now would it?  
  
Colors caught the eye as dancers appeared on the floor at the far side of the room, but Dorian ignored them at first in favor of studying his glass astutely, wishing he were anywhere else.  
  
The delighted cooing of the crowd brought his head up in curiosity and he found himself staring, wide eyed and enthralled at the spectacle before him.  
  
Three dancers had graced the floor, but the central figure clothed in aqua colored silk was what caught his attention. Usually they were all female, but this one was male, all three were elves, and they were all clad in sheer, flowing fabric that left very little to the imagination.  
  
The male elf was a trifle shorter than most of his kind which brought him near the females in height, but it was his appearance that struck Dorian. His skin was a beautiful rich light amber color almost akin to dark honey in hue, ebony silken hair was pulled halfway up in intricate braids woven with gold chains and sparkling gems while the rest floated free to the middle of his back. Gold crusted his pointed ears, across his forehead, and his neck, then continued in strings of glittering accents that spanned his bare chest, circled his biceps, and followed the contours of his waist. Those free flowing, lithe hips were clad in sheer silk that rode low beneath his belly button, skin tight leggings in the same aqua color as the silk coated his muscular legs, hardly making him decent at all and the sheer fabric floated with his movements.  
  
Gold bangles chimed seductively and charmingly about his slender wrists and ankles, creating their own song with each graceful step and movement he made. Through the dance all three had eyes lowered as good slaves should, but then, the male brought his arms up before him, eyes trained on his hands and Dorian's breath caught in his throat. Those eyes were like glittering jewels, the color around the pupil was bright green and faded to rich blue around the outer iris. The shape themselves were much more pronounced than most elves, his eyes swept up high at the outside corner and his lashes were thick, black, and long.  
  
In all he couldn’t have been too much older than Dorian, though it was difficult to tell with elves. Thick but elegant dark brows arched dramatically over his eyes, his nose was straight until the tip where it curved up ever so slightly in the most adorable manner. Delicate, high cheekbones swept his face under his eyes and his lips were deliciously soft looking, the top lip was thin and curved to smile easily and the bottom lip was plumper, almost pouty.  
  
This elf, this...slave was the most stunning creature Dorian had ever laid eyes on and he watched, enthralled as the lean body twisted, gyrated, and contorted to the rhythm of the music and in sync with his fellow dancers. The sheer feats of flexibility this man was capable of performing tightened Dorian's pants in a way he hadn't been expecting.  
  
Never in his whole life had he witnessed such beauty. But he was a slave, Dorian's gut tightened. He knew the things that happened to beautiful slaves and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. It felt so hypocritical, to notice him because he was beautiful, but it brought out a protective side in Dorian he hadn't known he possessed.  
  
He had to have him. To protect him, to hide him away from all these prying eyes who lustfully trailed his figure, eager to see what they could obtain from him. Dorian had staunchly refused to own a slave of his own, but now...with the right intentions? Or would this make him no better than his own hypocritical father?  
  
Mind made up, Dorian crossed the ballroom to where his father lounged amongst the other magisters, appearing quite satisfied and at ease in his new company.  
  
"Father, if I could request a word," Dorian asked grandly, bowing as appropriate to the other magisters.  
  
"Yes, my son?"  
  
"Privately, if it would please you," Dorian knew how to play the game. Fulfilling social niceties was easier than fighting them, and putting on a good show usually earned him favor with his parents.  
  
"If you will excuse me a moment," his father apologized and rose, Dorian bowed his own apology and magister Halward followed his son to a secluded corner.  
  
"Father, you have continually pressured me to obtain a slave to serve my needs, yes?"  
  
"Of course, my son. It is only fitting your station," his father sipped his wine delicately.  
  
"I will have him and no other," Dorian stated with all the considerable haute he possessed, indicating the dancing elf.  
  
"Dorian," his father sighed, "he belongs to Magister Vyrantus. Can't you choose a human slave? Elves bearing is so-"  
  
"It's him or nothing, father," Dorian said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his already broad chest.  
  
"Don't think I don't know what this is actually about," his father glared at him crossly. His son had to fancy an elf as his personal attendant, he just knew this was a personal affront.  
  
"Would you rather I continue to perform mundane tasks on my own? Or am I not allowed to choose a lowly elf to perform such tasks for me?" he asked glibly, well aware how to play the game.  
  
Dorian's father considered a moment, then glanced back at the slave who'd caught his son's eye. At least he was pleasing to behold.  
  
"I'll see what I can do. No promises though. Vyrantus just acquired him and seemed rather proud," his father gave him a sour look before returning to his comfortable seat and highly placed company.  
  
Dorian wrinkled his nose in distaste. Slowly he meandered his way back to his perch against the pillar, his eyes never leaving the vision of aqua silk in the center of the room. The elf was currently performing complex gymnastic dance maneuvers, leaping high in the air, his entire body arcing, muscles bunching and flexing with astounding command of his body. Idly Dorian wondered where he learned such skills.  
  
“Dorian!” a familiar voice brought him from his brooding and he glanced up to see the gorgeous Rilienus approach him from the other side of the ballroom, a brilliant smile on his features. Inwardly Dorian sighed in despondence. Was it his lot in life and love to always be denied his heart’s desires?  
  
“Rilienus,” he bowed his head formally to which the other young mage laughed.  
  
“What has your mood so black that you greet a friend so formally?” he teasingly asked, his eyes glittering with wine.  
  
“Magister Pavus,” he muttered darkly. “I am forced into more marriage negotiations,” Dorian pushed off the pillar he lounged against and Rilienus fell into step beside him, both their eyes trained on the dancers.  
  
“Oh, the gilded bars of family responsibilities,” Rilienus laughed silkily and Dorian’s chest tightened a little. “What’s a young man to do?”  
  
“Wait for the guillotine to drop?” Dorian’s mood proceeded only to darken further. “Perhaps they’ll find someone else suitable that I’ll detest even more than the last one,” the bitterness was clear in his voice and Rilienus laughed harder.  
  
“My family is in talks with House Agorian,” the youth stared into his wineglass, considering the half empty contents.  
  
“Lareia? I pity you indeed,” Dorian scoffed.  
  
“We will see how it turns out,” Rilienus laughed again, Dorian was beginning to think that all his friend was capable of this evening. “Talks are hardly a satisfied thing,” he winked at Dorian and finished his wine.  
  
“I’m for another glass. Join me?”  
  
“Nothing more interesting to do,” Dorian muttered, eyeing the dancing elf once more. Rilienus laughed heartily, draped his arms across his friend’s shoulders, and steered him toward the refreshments.  
  
Late into the evening the Pavus family gratefully climbed into their family coach and began the trek home.  
  
"Dorian, I came to an agreement with Vyrantus on your behalf. Apparently we possess a slave he has been very interested in acquiring and a trade has been struck upon," his father informed him with a distasteful air.  
  
"What's all this?" his mother turned from her languid contemplation of the passing streets shrouded in velvety darkness.  
  
"Dorian has finally settled on a slave he desired ownership of and I procured the means of acquiring him," Halward yawned.  
  
"It's about time you acquired a proper manservant," his mother sniffed.  
  
"We shall see if he turns out to be proper," his father barely held back his sneer, but Dorian ignored him.  
  
[ ](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/123496789890/kaim-from-the-serpent-and-the-slave-this-is-how-i)  
\---  
  
The next day his new property was due to arrive and he'd never felt giddier in his whole life. Despite the distasteful requirement of owning the young man he felt he was doing something good anyways by saving him from that dreadful house. The poor thing would likely have ended up dead by month's end.  
  
A tentative knock at his bedroom door brought him out of his reverie and he closed the book he'd been ignoring, rising nervously to his feet.  
  
"Come in," he called. The door opened and in slipped the elf from the night before. All the jewels and gold were gone, obviously, his hair adorned with a simple braid that began at each temple then merged into one plait at the back of his head, leaving the rest to float free across his back and almost down to the middle of his back. Today he was dressed in a simple cotton tunic, trousers, and slip on shoes, giving him a delicate, almost feminine appearance.  
  
Quietly he closed the door after himself and hurriedly made his way across the room, despite the quickness of his step he still appeared to almost float and his feet made not a sound. Still possessed of the dancers grace that so endeared him to Dorian he came to a stop a respectful distance from Dorian and immediately sank to his knees, head bowed.  
  
The young mage had been so enthralled watching him that the sudden deference immediately caught him off guard.  
  
"Oh! No, no you don't have to do that!" the elf's head came up immediately to regard his new master with a mixture of confusion and fear on his features, those beautiful blue green eyes glittered up at him in the candle light. Despite it being morning Dorian had his curtains pulled and only the flickering light of his candles lit his dim room.  
  
"Master?" he asked softly in confusion. "I have displeased you?" immediately he dropped his eyes and they shifted around nervously, he seemed torn between bowing again and staying where he was, hovering somewhere in between, unsure of himself.  
  
"I-" Dorian paused, unsure _himself_ how to continue. He was well aware how slaves were usually treated and he could have kicked himself for how stupid he must seem at this moment. All his thoughts had been consumed by the elf arriving without any consideration as to how to treat him or what to do with him once he had him.  
  
The uncomfortable silence dragged on, each moment the elf seemed closer and closer to panic, still hovering between his new master's odd statement and his training.  
  
"Oh Maker, I was not prepared for this," he rubbed his smooth face with one hand and placed the other on his hip. "Alright, to start: on your feet, and I want you to look at me when I speak to you, none of this eyes lowered to the ground business."  
  
The elf immediately leapt to his command, relieved at last for actual instruction, though he seemed reluctant to follow through the second part and raised his eyes again slowly, those blue green depths betraying his confusion. Now that he stood directly before him it startled Dorian to realize he was almost a full head shorter than the mage. It had been obvious during the dance the night before that he was shorter than most of his kind, but he hadn’t realized how disparate their heights actually were.  
  
"Secondly: you are never to kneel to me again. Out of deference anyway," an image of the elf kneeling before him with those lovely lips...he shoved the thought away firmly and cleared his throat. The elf was staring at him with impossibly wide eyes. _The elf_. Need to fix that next.  
  
"Thirdly: I would like to request the pleasure of your name."  
  
The elf's face screwed up in confusion a moment before he caught himself and schooled it back to neutrality. "Kaim, master." Interesting name, Dorian wondered at the origin.  
  
"Ok, that has to go too..." Dorian tapped his chin with a finger, considering a moment. "I suppose you can't be familiar with me out in public..." he straightened with a sigh. "Very well, in public you'll have to call me 'master' but in my private rooms with no one around I would rather you call me Dorian."  
  
"M-master?"  
  
"Dorian."  
  
"I-I...is this some sort of test?" Kaim asked timidly, his eyes darted around as though expecting some task master to leap from the shadows and beat him for acting inappropriately.  
  
"No, not at all. I purchased you last night with the aid of my father, Magister Pavus, and you are now my personal manservant. You will assist me and see to my needs, which are few, I might add. I do most things on my own, and in turn you are under my protection," he finished, pleased with himself.  
  
"Protection?" Kaim seemed confused.  
  
"You were slave to Magister Vyrantus’ house. Slaves like you don't live long there. So I bought you instead," he smiled, feeling satisfied with his decision.  
  
"But...the price was another life..." Kaim said softly.  
  
Dorian frowned. "What?"  
  
"You said you are protecting me, what about the woman I was traded for? The others said the master had desired her a long time...what will happen to her?" those beautiful eyes were so wide and Dorian was taken aback a moment. Again, he'd been so wrapped up in his own problems and desires.  
  
"I-I..." had he simply traded another life to suffer and die? Dorian sighed and sat down, in frustration his fingers raked through his normally perfect hair, ruffling it so it stuck out. "I hadn't even thought about that..." he stared to the side, guilt lanced through his gut.  
  
"Apologies, M-master...I did not intend to alarm. The fate of slaves is of no concern to-" Kaim shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Of course it is," Dorian interrupted him. "I'm simply terrible at this whole rescuing slaves bit," he muttered miserably. "I'd never even considered owning one before you, and therefore hadn't really considered them at all." Oh, now that statement just made him feel like even more of an ass.  
  
His eyes fell on his new property who stood there uncomfortably, completely uncertain as to what he was even doing there.  
  
"When we are alone in my quarters you are free to speak your mind, Kaim. You look as though you have something to say," he leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his chin on his knuckles, just drinking in the vision the young man presented. Now that he stood close it was clear he was younger than he'd originally thought. He couldn't be much older than Dorian himself, possibly even younger.  
  
"I-" he paused, clearly fearful he was being tricked, "you...desired my services specifically?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"I did...I do," Dorian smiled.  
  
"M-may I ask the reason?"  
  
"You may. Simply put: you're beautiful. I couldn't stand the thought of Vyrantus abusing you the way I knew he would," Dorian waved his hand dismissively. He'd never been shy about striving for his desires. Dorian was quick to share his bed but slow to trust. Previous vicious heartbreak had taught him that.  
  
"You traded my life for hers because I'm _beautiful_?" Kaim’s melodic voice trembled, tears welled in his eyes, and Dorian's head snapped up. Maker preserve, he was making a complete mess of this! Inside Kaim nearly broke, it had always been _him_ that suffered because of his beauty, never someone _else_.  
  
"No! No! Please don't cry!" he was immediately on his feet, holding out his hands placatingly and Kaim flinched back abruptly at the sudden movement, only succeeding in deepening Dorian's guilt. "I didn't...I didn't know...like I said I've never really...paid attention before. I've always been focused on my studies. I was just...trying to do right by you and help you..." this was the most awkward Dorian had ever felt in his life. The feeling of floundering was something he detested intensely and therefore strove to know everything. Apparently he’d failed dismally in this respect.  
  
"Your ignorance cost that woman her life," Kaim snapped, those beautiful eyes flashed in anger even as they spilled over his cheeks, tears like little diamonds against his tan skin.  
  
A sharp gasp escaped him the moment the words left his lips and his hands flew to his mouth. Before Dorian could even think Kaim was face down on the floor, hands crossed above his head, trembling slightly, that beautiful ebony hair splayed all about his head and shoulders in a silky fan.  
  
"A-apologies, m-master! My tongue moved without thought!" a chuckle drew him up short and gentle fingers scooped up his hands, pulling him up off the floor. Kaim's head came up slowly to find his new master sitting cross legged on the floor before him, holding both his hands in his own and smiling at him in amusement.  
  
"Do not apologize," his grin grew wider, then abruptly it faded away and he glanced off to the side uncomfortably. "I deserved every word," his eyes returned to Kaim's face and the elf realized belatedly they were grey, and reflected the light of the candles, almost making them glow.  
  
"I handled this on a whim and therefore very poorly," Dorian admitted, almost chuckling as Kaim looked between his face and their joined hands in confusion. "I apologize, though nothing I can say will reverse the evil I have done her. However, I can still endeavor to give you a better life," he nodded to himself sagely. Briefly his eyes fell to the smaller hands still encompassed within his own and noticed something he hadn’t before. Very faint white lines encircled each delicate wrist, it only took a moment’s consideration to realize they were scars. Disgust filled him and his eyes next fell on Kaim’s graceful neck and found similar white lines there too. They were likely on his ankles as well. It took every ounce of his self-discipline to not allow the gut wrenching disgust to show on his face. How could someone mar something so beautiful?  
  
"So," he broke the silence finally as he maneuvered Kaim's hands into his own lap then sat up straight, "as I am a stupid, spoiled noble, and _you_ just gave up quite the morsel of a secret, that being the _fiery_ little attitude of yours, I expect you to speak your mind when we are alone."  
  
He eyed the stiffly sitting elf. "This begins now, by the way. I am going to assign you duties, more to keep up appearances than anything else, but you will expected to perform them. Outside this room you will need to act the part of the perfect slave, but in here you are free to act as you wish. My books, paper, quill, anything else you desire to use, they are all available to you," he paused. "Can you read?"  
  
Kaim shook his head negatively.  
  
"Then I will teach you."  
  
The elf's eyes widened to the point Dorian thought they might pop out of his head and he chuckled. "Remember, you are free to speak your mind," Dorian gently prodded him with an amused smile.  
  
"You'll teach me to read?!" Kaim blurted out incredulously.  
  
Dorian chuckled. "Of course. I may need you to be able to anyway in order to assist me properly. Do you desire to learn?"  
  
The elf nodded vigorously and Dorian actually laughed, Kaim cocked his head, listening to and watching his master's mirth, he decided he liked the sound.  
  
Abruptly a shadow crossed Kaim's features and Dorian gazed at him seriously.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Kaim hesitated.  
  
“Please, I am not tricking you, there are no ulterior motives. You will not be punished for anything you say when we are alone in my rooms,” Dorian told Kaim quietly, watching the elf’s reactions.  
  
"I-I...was expecting...to be some nobleman's plaything. Not..." he paused, unsure how to articulate his thoughts. "Why me?" his eyes were so soulful as he gazed up at Dorian and the young mage felt his heart melt a little. What monstrous deeds had this young elf suffered in his short lifespan? All while Dorian lived in comfort and safety. How many more in Tevinter suffered? Thousands?  
  
Dorian's shoulders slumped a little. "I can't give you a better answer. All I can do is take care of you best I can now that you're here. Maybe together we can devise a solution to Tevinter's slave problem."  
  
Kaim stared at him, completely dumbfounded and Dorian chuckled again. "What colors do you like? Because you and I are shopping for clothing for you."  
  
\---  
  
On their return from the tailor Kaim carried a few parcels with clothing appropriate for his new standing as well as several more outfits to be delivered once completed. Kaim wore home the one Dorian thought the elf liked best from the way his eyes lit up when he saw it. The green fabric was high quality, nothing akin to what Dorian wore, but appropriate for his manservant, it folded around his lean body and fell to the bottom of his hips with a brown sash that wrapped his waist. The accompanying trousers were the same brown and little black slippers adorned his graceful feet.  
  
While they had been out they also acquired a plain gold band.  
  
"Ah, Dorian, your slave arrived appropriately, yes? Is he all you desired?" his father emerged from his study before they could reach the stairs.  
  
Kaim turned and bowed deeply, still holding his parcels, waiting the appropriate time before straightening, his eyes fixed on the floor.  
  
"He is exactly what I wanted father. You have my gratitude," a frown creased his face unbidden as the price his father had agreed upon flashed through his mind.  
  
"Something troubles you, son? If he is not fully to your liking..."  
  
"No, no, my thoughts have already moved on. It is nothing, pay me no mind," he waved a hand dismissively and headed for the stairs, Kaim respectfully following.  
  
"Dorian," his father's voice stopped him, "my actual purpose in stopping you was to inform you Magister Alexius has decided to grant you patronage. I don't have to stress to you what an honor this is..." his father's voice held warning.  
  
"Excellent news indeed," Dorian murmured. "Why, House Pavus climbs higher toward the heavens with each day. We must take care, lest the inevitable plummet send us all to our doom," the youth drawled.  
  
"That's quite enough, Dorian. Your antics are enough to bring ruin to any noble household. I will not allow you to tarnish our reputation with your lunacy!"  
  
"How dramatic, father," Dorian yawned. "I'll be in my rooms, preparing for my new patron," with that he spun elegantly and proceeded up the stairs with Kaim in tow, leaving his fuming father to glare in his wake.  
  
"Insufferable hypocrite!" Dorian snapped once the door to his rooms was safely closed behind them by Kaim. "I don't want you down in the servants quarters, so I will have my anteroom converted into a place for you. For now you can leave your new clothes there," he indicated a small room off the side of his own. Kaim would have his own room? His own space? His head reeled.  
  
"What-" Kaim was still very unaccustomed to how Dorian wanted him to act, "w-what do you mean by hypocrite?"  
  
"Are you asking for a definition? Or why I called my father that?" Dorian chuckled humorlessly.  
  
“T-the…why you called the Magister that,” Kaim was really having trouble adjusting to his new role.  
  
“Even a pampered noble such as I is capable of recognizing the hubris of my people,” Dorian said bitterly as he sat at his study table, his fingers snapped and the candle danced with flame. “My father taught me honor, integrity, strength of mind, health of body,” he picked up a missive and glanced at it boredly before tossing it aside. “One by one I’ve watched him break them,” he glanced up as Kaim made his way across the considerable spanse of his room, hands clutched behind his back, each elegant footstep silent and graceful, watching the elf contentedly.  
  
“Who am I kidding,” Dorian shoved his quill away in frustration and rubbed his clean shaven face, earning a confused expression from Kaim. “I’m just as hypocritical,” came the disgusted explanation. “I saw you at the party and I _had_ to have you. No concern for your own desires or who I might hurt to achieve mine,” Dorian stared down at the pile of parchment on his desk in self-loathing. A few years back the heavy weight of a conscience had begun to form in his chest and mind, ever since every aspect of his life, everything he’d taken for granted, little by little he’d examined his own existence and found he didn’t like what he saw. Tevinter nobles touted lofty goals, self-betterment, the pursuit of knowledge, the spread of a vast and powerful empire. But all Dorian saw was power scrabbles, false glory built on the backs of slaves. Invisible souls he hadn’t even realized were there until recently. No one was truly free here, not even the nobility. Dorian was just as enslaved as Kaim, forced to ever cage his sexual preference and likely trapped into the nightmare of an unwilling marriage to someone he not only detested but likely couldn’t stand to even fake it with long enough to produce children.  
  
"But...at least you...see it's wrong and...your heart is in the right place," the elf said softly and knelt by his chair, gazing up at his new master with those fathomless blue green eyes, his hands folded neatly in his lap.  
  
Dorian's eyes softened. "What did I say about kneeling?" without thinking he reached his hand down to brush soft black tendrils back from Kaim's face but hesitated just short, hovering there for a moment before drawing his hand back.  
  
"I-...in addition to the other parameters of our master/slave relationship, I will promise never to touch you unless you give me express permission," Dorian announced, a grin spread across his features as Kaim blinked up at him owlishly. Today just got stranger and stranger for Kaim.  
  
"Y-you...I-I..."  
  
"I so love leaving people speechless," Dorian chuckled.  
  
"I'm just surprised...M-master," Kaim stuttered and Dorian shook his head at the elf with a smile.  
  
"I didn't purchase you to force myself on you," he told Kaim with a smile. "I prefer my partners willing, and I could never be absolutely sure you weren't just submitting to what you believed to be my wishes. Therefore I will never lay a hand on you in that manner, and will not even touch you peripherally without your permission," it amazed Kaim how serious Dorian was at that moment and wondered again how it was he could be so blessed.  
  
Dorian idly hoped he'd be able to keep his oath as he gazed down at the beautiful elf.  
  
"Now, would you like to begin our reading lessons?"  
  
\---  
  
The next day brought a small bustle of activity through Dorian’s room as furniture was removed from his anteroom and a bed and single, plain bureau was brought up. Dorian also had a mirror put in for Kaim’s convenience. As Kaim folded his new clothes and put them away he marveled at the changes his new life had wrought. His own room. He had his own room. A small smile lit his features. It seemed a lifetime ago he’d known anything but slavery, even though it had been six years.  
  
Once finished he stepped out silently and shut the door behind himself, folded his hands at the small of his back as he’d been taught, and crossed the room to where his master sat at his study desk. It occurred to Kaim that every time he moved across the space that Dorian would stop what he was doing and watch him, an...odd glint in his grey eyes and Kaim wondered at it.  
  
A soft smile lit the Tevinter noble’s lips as he halted by the side of the desk and the youth sat back in his chair, replaced his quill, then smiled up at him. “I can see your question, so speak and hear it satisfied,” he told him softly, for a moment Kaim was lost in the sparkle of amusement that lit his eyes, making them practically dance. Quickly he swallowed.  
  
“I...you always watch me as I walk. Why is that, Master?” his voice was timid and Dorian’s face lit in a brilliant smile that brought a flush unbidden to Kaim’s cheeks.  
  
“Because of the very lie you just told me.”  
  
“L-lie?!” Kaim started back, alarmed.  
  
“Be at ease,” Dorian laughed, “I do not mean what you think,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, laced his fingers together and considered the elf over them, looking much older than his youthful sixteen years. “You don’t merely walk, you...glide, you dance, you float...you are possessed of a grace I have yet to have seen matched,” Dorian favored him with another brilliant smile when his elf colored up to his ears. “You blush? Surely others have said so?”  
  
Kaim colored a little more at the involuntary reaction and cleared his throat. “I-I...the reactions I receive are usually…different...less complimentary and more...carnal,” he admitted softly, not meeting his eyes, and immediately the smile was gone from Dorian’s face.  
  
“Well, no more,” he said emphatically and Kaim nodded back. “Tomorrow we go to see Magister Alexius,” he smoothly changed the subject. “You will be expected to shadow me, carry anything I need, and provide silent company. As much as I would prefer to hear your voice it is what is expected,” from the expression on Dorian’s face Kaim actually believed him.  
  
“Since we will be going out, I have a request to make of you,” Dorian glanced up at him, relief bloomed in Kaim’s chest at the return of that small teasing smile he was beginning to recognize as a thing all Dorian’s own. “Would you please put your hair up in braids? It doesn’t have to be adorned, but I would so love to see it braided again,” his smile widened and Kaim graced him with a small smile of his own.  
  
“As you wish, Master.”  
  
“I will get you to drop the ‘master’ bit, just you wait,” he shook a finger at Kaim and the elf’s smile widened. “By the way, how old are you actually? If you know, that is…” he paused, realizing he may have asked something uncomfortable. “If you don’t wish to answer, I understand-”  
  
“No, it is fine,” Kaim smiled, “I am sixteen.”  
  
“Ah, we are of the same age then,” he grinned boyishly and Kaim smiled back, finding Dorian’s enthusiasm infectious. Abruptly Dorian’s face grew serious. “Kaim, I want you with me wherever I go,” once again he leaned on his desk, interlacing his fingers and stared off into space someplace above them. “Soak up all you can, listen to everything, become as versed in Tevinter politics and intrigue as I will end up being. Tevinter is not a place I will be able to navigate successfully on my own. I would have you as my eyes and ears,” his eyes returned to Kaim’s face and the elf felt the gravity of what he placed upon him. “Every word was heartfelt when I said together we would find a solution to Tevinter’s slavery problem. I hope to one day stand side by side as equals, not as master and slave.”  
  
Kaim’s smooth brow knit together with the weight of all he felt at that moment and he nodded sagely. “I will do my best to bring you pride.”  
  
“Before I forget, I enchanted this last night,” he held out the gold band Dorian had bought and Kaim took it gingerly, knowing what it was. It was the slave band that would bind him to Dorian. That would let others know he was owned by a son of House Pavus. Mutely he slipped it onto the middle finger of his left hand. “I hate those things,” Dorian muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaim and Dorian's relationship will take time and care to flourish. Is friendship with a slave even possible?
> 
> I am a huge fan of fluff and dialogue, so expect my work to have a large portion of both.
> 
> Not entirely happy with the pacing in this chapter, please let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Warning for masturbation in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you did and did not like!

[ ](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/113367014600/i-sit-down-to-write-and-this-happens-i-cant#notes)  
  


The next day found Kaim up before dawn as was usual for him. A small candle was lit to see by and he quickly muddled through his morning meditations, even if there was hardly room to stretch in the tiny space. A smile lit his face. It was small, but it was his, therefore he would never complain.  
  
Once complete he washed up in the basin left on his bureau before deftly winding his fingers through his silken, ebony hair, weaving it into intricate braids that bound into an elegant knot at the back of his head, strands left undone were held in place by the braids and cascaded with a few of the plaits down his back.  
  
Task complete he quickly pulled on black trousers and wrapped the matching black tunic with gold trim around him, securing it with a gold colored cloth belt. The sleeves fell to midway down his forearm and he slipped on his black slippers and double checked his reflection. He hardly recognized the elf staring back at him before filling his lungs with a steadying breath and slipped out of his room silently.  
  
Dorian was still asleep as he made his way across his room to his bathrooms, making not a sound until he reached the tubs. With sure movements he started the water warming, then slipped out as a wraith, exiting Dorian’s rooms and headed down to the kitchen to procure his morning meal.  
  
The cook Ardraya glanced up as he slipped in the door and she smiled, her rosy cheeks full of life and he found himself smiling back.  
  
“Well, good mornin’, darlin’. 'Ere for Master Dorian’s breakfast?” they had met the morning prior when Kaim had been shown by another servant what his duties would entail. Without a word he smiled and nodded. “Aye, quiet one, you. In time ye’ll open up. A new posting is always difficult a'first. ‘Ere you go, sumthin’ to fill yer belly while ye wait. I’m almost done,” she pushed over a cloth that had a slice of bread topped with a piece of cheese and a slice of meat, accompanied by a small glass of milk. He nodded gratefully and perched on a stool while he ate in silence.  
  
Once the food was gone he stood and brushed any crumbs away, though there were none, straightening his clothes, then waited with his hands folded behind his back until his master’s meal was complete.  
  
“‘Ere ya go, darlin’, now off ye go. The master'll be wakin’ soon,” she smiled at him sweetly and he smiled back with a thankful nod.  
  
“Thank you,” he turned with the covered tray and exited the kitchens. On silent feet he made his way through the servant’s hallways, only exiting into the main hallway when forced to, in order to reach Dorian’s wing.  
  
“Slave,” Magister Halward Pavus’ voice startled him and he stopped immediately, turning to face the approaching man.  
  
“My lord,” he bowed as low as possible without upsetting the tray. Dorian’s father stopped a step short of the slave, his gaze trained on the bowed head critically as the elf straightened, keeping his own eyes averted down as his station dictated.  
  
“What interest do you hold for my son, I wonder,” he said aloud, more to himself than anything else and Kaim resisted flinching when his chin was seized roughly and his head turned up. Valiantly he kept his eyes averted down, now looking in the vicinity of Magister Halward’s chest. “Look at me, slave.”  
  
With the command Kaim’s eyes rose immediately to the man’s face and he swallowed hard as he stared into the same grey eyes Dorian possessed, though these were piercing and hard. Other than the eyes and skin tone though, Dorian and his father did not hold much the same in appearance. Kaim supposed he got most of his attractiveness from his mother. The mouth was similar too, though it was more difficult to see as the magister was constantly frowning while Dorian’s lips more often than not curved into a smile, but the magister lacked Dorian’s refined jaw, nose, and brow line.  
  
“You are a striking one, I’ll admit to that,” he murmured as he turned Kaim’s head back and forth, examining his face carefully. “We’ll see how you turn out,” he grumbled. “Off you go, my son needs his breakfast.”  
  
Kaim immediately took a graceful step back and bowed low. “My lord,” he said as confidently as he could manage then turned with a grace that caught Halward’s eye and proceeded the rest of the way to Dorian’s wing of the house. Dorian’s father continued to watch his son’s new slave until he disappeared through the doors to his wing. It interested him to note the elf single tracked, always placing one foot directly in front of the other, as many dancers do, his feet made not a sound and though he was graceful there was no wasted movement.  
  
The magister’s gut tightened slightly. _Please don’t let that be the reason for your sudden interest in owning a slave, Dorian_ , he silently prayed to himself. For so long his own desires had been denied him, sating them only rarely and at great discretion. It would break his heart if his son struggled with the same temptations of the flesh.  
  
With a frown he turned and headed down the great hallway toward his study, needing time on his own to think.  
  
Kaim bit back a sigh of relief when he finally entered Dorian’s rooms, once within his wing he had all but run, moving as quickly as possible without upsetting the tray until he reached the safety of his master’s private chamber.  
  
“There you are,” Dorian yawned and exited the baths after relieving himself. “I was wondering where you’d got off to.”  
  
Kaim quickly crossed the room and deposited the tray on his side table, valiantly attempting to still his trembling hands. “Apologies, Master, I was delayed,” his eyes remained on the tray as he prepared Dorian’s meal, so engrossed in his task he about jumped out of his skin when Dorian leaned into his line of vision, squinting at him in consideration.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Kaim. “Did someone bother you?”  
  
“P-please... Master… I-I…” he hesitated and looked away.  
  
"Someone _did_ , didn't they?" he asked peevishly, raising an annoyed brow. "Who was it? I'll give them a tongue lashing they won't soon forget."  
  
Panic rose in Kaim's throat. "N-no! Do not be bothered! It was nothing," he insisted, his eyes entreating his new master.  
  
"Clearly it was _something_ to have you shaking so," Dorian crossed his arms and gazed at the elf crossly. "I will not tolerate anyone harassing you, now out with it."  
  
Kaim sighed in defeat and refused to meet Dorian's eyes. "It was the Magister," he said quietly.  
  
" _Father_ stopped you? What in the blazes did he want?" Dorian's face darkened.  
  
"He bade me stop, then asked ' _what interest do you hold for my son, I wonder_ ,' without expecting reply. He took hold of my face and ordered me look up so he could see me better and commented that I was ' _striking_ '. He then let me go and I came here," Kaim finished his recitation quietly, cautiously he snuck a look at his master, surprised at the anger he found there.  
  
"How _dare_ he!" Dorian appeared about to storm out of his rooms and hunt his father down.  
  
"Please do not confront him on my behalf, I beg of you!" Kaim slid between Dorian and the door, panic gripped his chest and he fell to his knees in entreaty.  
  
“Kaim, what-? Don’t-” he seemed about to reach down and help him rise but Kaim held out both his palms.  
  
“Please! If you say anything he will _know_ I told you! If there is anyone you cannot protect me from, it is _him_. Please, I beseech you, do not expose me to your father and gain me his ire!”  
  
Dorian studied the elf, stunned. Fear etched Kaim’s features and Dorian again wondered what atrocities his poor servant must have suffered at the hands of a Magister to fear them so. Kaim was asking for his trust in this and Dorian realized he could not break it. Not without destroying what little headway he’d made with Kaim. With a heavy sigh Dorian sank to his knees in front of Kaim and managed a small smile.  
  
“For you, I will stay my tongue,” he told him quietly, resisting the urge to take up his hand and feel the elf’s soft skin. How he wanted nothing more than to bury himself against the smaller, lithe form, taste him, feel those dancer’s thighs around his hips, but it was a temptation he was never to partake of. Would never allow himself to indulge in. To Dorian it was imperative that his home be a place Kaim felt safe and secure. Nothing would tarnish that. Not even his own desires. As he’d learned the hard way, it was easy to twist sexual desire into abuse, something to lord over the other person and that would never be allowed to happen to his Kaim, even if it meant denying himself.  
  
_Especially_ if it meant denying himself.  
  
“Thank you, Master. Now will you please eat? Your food will get cold,” Kaim rose and offered Dorian his hands in helping him rise. As it was offered Dorian allowed himself to accept with a smile, reveling in the momentary contact.  
  
“Only if you eat something with me,” he pinned Kaim with a teasing grin. “I always feel uncomfortable eating in front of someone who is not.”  
  
“I can leave you be for a little until you are finished?” the elf cocked his head and Dorian thought it was about the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.  
  
“No, just have something to eat _with_ me,” he allowed Kaim to set his food out for him.  
  
“I have already eaten,” Kaim informed him.  
  
“I’m sure it was paltry and hardly filling. I’ll only allow this argument to continue if you are _actually_ sassing me and not just politely declining because you think it _necessary_ ,” Dorian said before stuffing a forkful in his mouth. A small grin broke out on Kaim’s features and Dorian’s chest filled with warmth, pleased with himself.  
  
“I _could_ accuse you of attempting to make me fat so I am less appealing to your peers,” Kaim retorted and Dorian laughed heartily after he swallowed his food.  
  
“Oh! You are glorious!” his eyes twinkled with humor and Kaim favored him with a brilliant smile and soft flush. “I was right! I’ll get that fiery little attitude to spark once more, just wait and see.”  
  
“Caution, Master. Lest you bring the house down in flames.”  
  
Dorian threw his head back in laughter and Kaim flushed again with a small smile, immensely happy that he had pleased his master. It still made hardly any sense to the elf, his master was asking him to _not_ act like a slave. But these small acts of rebellion against his training seemed to bring the young man a great amount of joy and amusement, therefore he would continue to try.  
  
\---  
  
Later in the day found them in his father’s coach on their way to Magister Alexius’ mansion. As suited his station Kaim knelt in the coach on the floor next to Dorian’s seat. A fact Dorian found more grating than Kaim did, as the elf was accustomed to such things.  
  
On arrival Kaim sprang to his feet and opened the door for Dorian, bowing low as he did so, allowing Dorian to step out. Dutifully he fell into step behind his master, his eyes low and trained on the ground directly in front of him, Dorian’s heels were just to the left of where his eyesight was directed to ensure he never overstepped and remained the perfect distance from him.  
  
They were immediately ushered into Alexius’ study where Kaim fell back and positioned himself next to the door, out of the way, but within earshot should Dorian need him, his face dropped and he astutely studied the floor, his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
“Ah! Young Dorian, so good to see you again,” Alexius rose from his study chair as Dorian strode into the room.  
  
“Magister Alexius, this is an honor,” Dorian bowed elegantly, though his voice held honest opinion.  
  
“Please, just Alexius for now,” the older man smiled at Dorian and patted his shoulder. “I believe you know my son, Felix?” a younger boy leapt up from his seat to the side and bowed hastily to Dorian.  
  
“Master Pavus, a pleasure to see you again,” the boy had to have been around twelve.  
  
“The pleasure is mine,” Dorian gave him a small smile and a return bow.  
  
“Felix, will you see to your mother? Dorian and I have business to discuss,” Alexius asked kindly.  
  
“Yes, father,” the boy practically skipped from the room.  
  
“I remember when you were that age,” Alexius chuckled. “It seems not so long ago,” the Magister teased him and Dorian had the grace to flush.  
  
“A lifetime for me,” he returned with a small smile.  
  
“Would your manservant prefer to wait elsewhere with my servants while we begin working?” Alexius asked, eyeing the unusual appearing elf. He didn’t remember Dorian owning his own slave.  
  
“No, I prefer he stay, if that is alright with you,” no further explanation was forthcoming so Alexius simply nodded and smiled lightly.  
  
The rest of the day was spent discussing Dorian’s tutelage, possible avenues of study, and his interest in the mortalitasi. From the shadows by the door Kaim listened eagerly, never having been included in meetings such as this before. Not possessed of magic himself, the idea still fascinated him and he was eternally grateful that Dorian appeared to be a rather talented mage.  
  
The elf listened as Alexius made it clear he would not tolerate laxness in his studies, that he demanded all of Dorian’s attention when he was there, and he expected great results from him. Surprisingly Dorian’s reply was bereft of sarcasm and they immediately fell into an easy rhythm, moving about his study, pulling books of interest, and discussing all things arcane. Alexius tested his knowledge, corrected him when he faltered, and laughed at his quick humor.  
  
Even Kaim was startled to realize they’d spent almost the entire afternoon there and immediately snapped to attention when Alexius made mention of their departure for dinner and rest. His offer of refreshment with his wife and son were politely declined to be accepted at a later date.  
  
Dutifully silent Kaim shadowed Dorian to perfection the whole way out of the estate, through the carriage ride home, and through the Pavus house until they were back, safely ensconced in Dorian’s quarters.  
  
“What a fascinating day!” Dorian appeared in good spirits and eagerly crossed his room to his desk, flopping down completely graceless and sifting through papers. A soft knock at the door drew Kaim to it and he opened it just enough to speak to the servant without.  
  
“Who is it?” Dorian asked, chewing on his quill.  
  
Quietly Kaim closed the door once more and with gliding steps traversed the room to his master’s desk. “One of the servants. Your father expects you to dinner tonight.”  
  
For all intents and purposes Dorian appeared to go completely boneless with a wailing plaintive sound and Kaim choked back a snicker, the antics of his master were an entirely new experience and it caught the elf off guard.  
  
“I heard that,” he pointed at Kaim then lifted his head with a grin, opening one eye to consider Kaim slyly.  
  
Kaim stoically schooled his features. “Unhappy news must have turned your mind. I know not of what you speak, Master,” Kaim’s stomach twisted at the unnatural way speaking to his master felt, but if it was what his master desired then he would try.  
  
Dorian laughed and the positive response immediately soothed Kaim’s suspicions and trepidation. “Liar. I suppose I should get dressed for dinner then,” he slouched more in his chair, indicating his current desire level of completing such a task.  
  
“Come, Master. I will help you dress,” Kaim held out his hand and Dorian flopped his into the outstretched palm, but made absolutely no effort to rise, instead slouching forward to collapse on his desk in despair. “Master…” Kaim pulled gently on his arm, yielding no response. The next tug was a little firmer and Dorian continued to prove boneless and began to slide off his chair toward the floor.  
  
“Master!” Kaim attempted to catch the other man, but Dorian was much superior in weight. Dorian had only meant to tease the young man, but in his effort to keep his master from falling on the floor they somehow ended up hopelessly tangled and on the floor anyways. The mage was sprawled on top of the elf, inexplicably Kaim’s hair had become snagged on the chest of Dorian’s robes, or rather the plethora of buckles it sported, the leaner man’s arm was ensnared in the draping sleeve of silk, Dorian’s belt had somehow snagged on Kaim’s cloth one, and Kaim’s leg was now wrapped over Dorian’s thigh and between his legs, his slim ankle had somehow slipped through one of the many leather straps along the side of the complex robes.  
  
“With all your grace,” his upward movement was halted by a yelp from Kaim upon pulling his hair, “I’d have thought you’d have handled that better,” Dorian laughed hysterically, unsure where to even begin in untangling this mess.  
  
“The extent of your...weight caught me by surprise,” a laugh bubbled out of the elf unbidden at Dorian’s offended scowl.  
  
“I should continue to pull your hair for your affront! Are you insinuating I’m fat?” the mage laughed delightedly, ecstatic that Kaim appeared to be loosening up a little, for the moment at least. Both their fingers moved to untangle Kaim’s hair and they both flushed slightly when their fingers touched, Kaim quickly took over, trying to shift for better reach since one arm was pulled tightly against Dorian’s chest by his silk sleeve.  
  
“No, merely-ouch! Merely that I am smaller even than most of my race,” he hissed in pain when Dorian attempted to shift and free Kaim’s arm from his robes, but pulled his hair harder in the process, bending the elf’s head down toward his chest more.  
  
“Sorry!” Dorian panicked, it seemed he would be unable to move at all until Kaim’s hair was freed as it was caught in two different buckles.  
  
“It would appear in my best interest to avoid braiding my hair around you from now on,” Kaim muttered, fumbling with the braid firmly snared on a silver buckle. The nobleman laughed lightly, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the feel of the lithe body underneath his while it was permissible.  
  
A frustrated growl escaped the elf and his nimble fingers moved quickly to undo the rest of Dorian’s robes, baring his chest inch by inch and allowing more slack for his head so he could better see what he was doing. Finally there was enough room for Dorian to slip out of it and he obliged begrudgingly, allowing the two to part. Kaim sat cross legged on the floor, slowly untangling his silky hair from the grievously heinous buckles that held him hostage.  
  
A satisfied sigh escaped him when he was finally free of the offending robes and he straightened them and put them away, returning to his master who now stood by his bureau, considering the elf with a mischievous smile.  
  
“I had not meant to cause injury, my apologies,” his smile was infectious and Kaim found himself smiling back, despite his ingrained training.  
  
“It is of no consequence, no lasting damage was done,” Kaim assisted him with the rest of his gear and then into dinner attire, trying very hard not to admire the play of light over his rich, tan skin and his well toned body.  
  
Task completed, Kaim followed his master to the dining hall.  
  
“Ah, Dorian-” his father stopped short on seeing the servant following dutifully behind his son. Dorian took his place at the table and waited for his father to sit before taking his own. Kaim pushed his chair in for him, lay his napkin across his lap delicately, then took his spot against the wall behind and to Dorian’s right, folding his hands at the small of his back and bowing his head.  
  
“Your slave need not hang about while we eat,” Halward bit out a little snidely, unsettled by the presence of the elf.  
  
"Of course he should! His presence has turned out to be extraordinarily useful! I don't know why I waited so long to acquire one! If all your suggestions turn out to be as eminently beneficial I should take them into greater consideration!" he sounded entirely too self satisfied as he leaned his chin on his knuckles and considered his father with devious eyes.  
  
Magister Pavus gave a half hearted laugh and turned to the first course in dismay. Perhaps he need be more careful in his future suggestions should they backfire as magnanimously as this one.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim and Dorian fell into an easy rhythm as the days passed, the elf picked up on his duties with a quickness and eager heart that even surprised Dorian.  
  
The young Pavus glanced up from his lounging position on the bed, lowering his book to watch Kaim glide into the room on silent feet, greatly enjoying the flow of the simple cotton tunic about his lean form.  
  
“Kaim, where did you learn to move as you do?” Dorian asked quietly, closing his book to fully, unabashedly watch his elf.  
  
“I...I…” Kaim schooled his nerves. “My training took place at a dance school. I am not sure where. When I was purchased a few of my fellow students came as well. We all had...additional training that went hand in hand with dancing,” Kaim stood stiffly at the bottom of the bed.  
  
With concern etched on his features Dorian leaned forward and patted the edge of the bed, encouraging the elf to sit.  
  
“Apologies, I hadn’t meant to bring up uncomfortable subjects,” the empathy in Dorian’s voice broke Kaim’s heart and he resolved to shake his discomfort.  
  
“No, please ease your mind. It is simply something I’ve never spoken of before,” Kaim sat on the edge of the bed as bid, though still stock straight. “In addition to the dancing arts, I was schooled in Tevinter’s...darker arts.”  
  
Dorian raised a brow.  
  
“I am...quite skilled with daggers and shadow-”  
  
“You’re an assassin?!” Dorian blurted.  
  
“N-no! I was only trained, I never fulfilled any...obligations concerning...my skills,” Kaim finished uncomfortably.  
  
“Well wax my legs and call me an elf,” Kaim snorted at the unexpected statement and Dorian grinned widely, “I caught you that time. I saw you laugh,” a blush spread across Kaims cheeks and he smiled shyly. Such actions would have been punished severely, yet Dorian encouraged them, it was still so odd to Kaim. “I should let you carry a set of daggers tucked in your tunic,” Dorian wanted so badly to lean forward and brush that flushed cheek with his fingers.  
  
“If you desire,” Kaim looked down at his hands, his hair, free of braids that day, fell in a waterfall of silken ebony over his shoulder. “But to complete the answer to your question, I have been trained in graceful arts as far back as I can remember. I don’t think I could be purposefully loud even should I desire it,” those beautiful blue green eyes came up and considered Dorian, allowing himself a small smile.  
  
It made Dorian immensely happy to see Kaim’s progress in just the last few days.  
  
“Do you stretch regularly to maintain that level of flexibility?” Dorian asked curiously.  
  
Kaim nodded. “I perform ritual meditations before bed and when I rise to keep my body limber.”  
  
Dorian frowned suddenly. “Is the floor space in your room large enough for such an activity?”  
  
“It...is sufficient,” the small note of hesitation told Dorian enough.  
  
“You will perform them out here then,” Dorian stated with finality.  
  
“But...I do them before you rise and after you’ve gone to bed,” Kaim argued tentatively, his stomach still twisted in fear over voicing opposition to his master. “I will not allow my duties to interfere with your rest.”  
  
“Fine, then use the bathing room if you insist,” Dorian waved a hand dismissively and Kaim’s roiling gut subsided.  
  
The elf considered a moment then nodded.  
  
“Would that all masters were more like you,” Kaim blurted out wistfully.  
  
“Agreed... No,” he took it back, “would that slavery were non-existent,” Dorian frowned. “I’m afraid Tevinter society would likely collapse without it though. I’ve been doing some research. Slavery keeps Tevinter from having what the south call ‘Alienages’. Places to corral the poor, casteless elves into one place where they live in squalor with no perceivable way to change their fates. And not all masters are cruel to their slaves. My parents may ignore their very presence, but they are not treated poorly. Unlike some magisters.”  
  
“I was told despite Vyrantus’ reputation that I was purchased by the lesser of two evils,” Kaim said quietly and Dorian raised a brow at him. “Vyrantus outbid a man named Danarius?”  
  
“Ugh, Danarius. Now there’s a magister you should be thankful didn’t get his nasty claws in you,” Dorian sneered.  
  
“And the reason for disgust?” Kaim asked.  
  
“The Imperium has been in an uproar of both indignation and amusement ever since he lost his pet in Seheron two years ago. Danarius branded his slave elf with lyrium.”  
  
Kaim stared at him aghast, horror etched on his features. “Such a thing is possible?”  
  
“Indeed. The pain it caused gave the poor creature amnesia, couldn’t remember a thing of his past. A convenience I am sure Danarius was more than happy to have occurred. The lyrium was etched into his skin from his chin all the way to the tops of  his feet. It curled in white lines over almost every inch of his body. The trauma also turned his hair from jet black to white. It was beautiful to behold, though I am sure it was not worth the agony he endured. It gave him the ability to partially fase into the fade. In conjunction with the best training a warrior can obtain in Tevinter, Fenris became quite the unstoppable killing machine. He also became a lyrium battery for his master, Danarius could draw magical power from him as one would drink a potion.”  
  
Kaim’s face contorted into such an expression of disgust that Dorian gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
“As I said, rejoice that ownership did not fall to one such as him. He likely would have endeavored to recreate his loss. From what I heard it took several attempts before one survived.”  
  
The slight elf shuddered slightly.  
  
Dorian considered Kaim with glittering eyes for a moment, as though internally debating something.  
  
“Master?”  
  
“Dorian.”  
  
“Yes. If I am to speak my mind...then I wish you to as well.”  
  
Dorian laughed heartily. “You really think I have issue with holding back? My parents bemoan my inability to keep my mouth shut!”  
  
“You speak to fill silence and toss nonsense at them in endeavor to frustrate them, leaving subject of substance inside. But I see it,” Kaim said knowingly and immediately brought Dorian up short. The elf was a cunning one, for sure. “There are things you wish to say. It’s in your eyes.”  
  
“Alright, you caught me. Don’t think I’ll let it happen again, I have to maintain my mystique,” Dorian chuckled when Kaim gave him a deadpan look.  
  
“I help you bathe and change your clothes. How much more mystique are you hiding from me?”  
  
“I _love_ that sass!”  
  
“And you’re avoiding telling me,” Kaim deftly brought the subject back.  
  
“Clever elf,” Dorian muttered. “Fine, my thoughts were regarding your dancing. I was wondering...if it would make you uncomfortable if in the future I asked you to dance for me. No one else, just me.”  
  
“I will dance for you any time you ask, Master,” Kaim told him, raising his brows in confusion. Why would Dorian hesitate to ask such a thing? “Though if it is just you then there will not be any music,” he told him.  
  
Dorian shrugged. “That doesn’t matter to me, do you need music?”  
  
Kaim shook his head. “I merely make mention as most people prefer it. Do you desire I dance for you now?” Kaim couldn’t quite keep the excitement out of his voice. It felt like an eternity since he’d been allowed to dance. Though he would gladly give it up if it meant staying here with Dorian.  
  
A surge of blood went straight to Dorian's groin at the thought. "Not right now. I need to get through this book on _Warping the Veil_."  
  
"I found Alexius' lecture on redirecting ambient energy and how the effect can clear excess magic absolutely fascinating," Kaim quietly told him, a happy, dreamy expression on his face.  
  
"You remember all that from today? That's almost verbatim how he'd said it. You're not a mage, are you?" Dorian asked curiously.  
  
"No, I just...have a good memory. And you did tell me to listen and soak up all I could..." Kaim paused, unsure of himself. Was Dorian displeased with him?  
  
"That's amazing! I had no idea your memory was so good! By all means, continue! It would appear I will be including you in my studies from now on," he told the elf happily who smiled back at him.  
  
"Shall we continue your reading lessons tonight?" Dorian asked with a grin.  
  
"Only if they do not interfere with your studies," Kaim insisted.  
  
\---  
  
It was over a week later before Dorian actually did ask Kaim to dance for him. It had been a particularly grueling day with Alexius:  
  
_"Are you even trying, boy? Again! This time try to act like you aren't a Laetan."_  
  
_Dorian ground his teeth and ignored the sweat in his eyes, focusing on his patron across the room. The fade bent to his will and in his frustration he decided to attempt something he'd only theorized about._  
  
_Hands glowed, magic poured into his palms, fire danced in one and he simultaneously prepared something different in his other. All this took place in the span of a heartbeat. When the inferno released his left hand performed a nullification. At the same time he concentrated and pulled on the veil warp, snapping it like a whip. The flames burned ten times hotter and he very unexpectedly burned his own fingers, a smell of ozone and ash hung heavy in the air and his teeth vibrated giving him an uncomfortable sensation._  
  
_A surprised and pained yelp escaped him, but it had the desired effect, Alexius' barrier did not actually fall, but he could see the sweat on the older man's forehead from the strain and the heat._  
  
_"That would have been impressive if not for the puppy dog yelp you gave up," Alexius chuckled and Dorian scowled at him, cradling his singed fingers._  
  
_"Had you not been an ass I wouldn't have made attempt on untested theory," the young Pavus shot back._  
  
_"You reckless little kaffas," but Alexius' voice held humor and pride. "That's enough for today, I think. I would recommend learning a healing spell to soothe those fingers. Work on that new technique. I expect to see it tomorrow without burnt fingers," he watched in interest as Dorian's slave unnervingly seemed to simply appear by his master's side and gently took up the injured hand._  
  
_Kaim had begun carrying elfroot supplies on him after Dorian's first lesson and he removed a balm from its concealment under his sash, proceeding to sooth the burnt fingers. The care he took and the way Dorian watched his bent head raised a question in Alexius' mind, one he shoved away firmly. What the Pavus boy did on his own time was none of his business._  
  
Dorian had been exhausted by the time they arrived back at the Pavus estate and immediately sent Kaim to make excuses to his father for not joining them at dinner that evening.  
  
Kaim re-entered the room, hands full of Dorian's dinner to find the young mage at his desk, fumbling with a tome in frustration, favoring his injured fingers. Depositing the tray on his side table, Kaim crossed the room and leaned over his study table, gently extracting the book from his frustrated hands and held it open for him, turning the page when he indicated.  
  
"Do you wish more balm for your fingers?" Kaim asked quietly.  
  
"No, I'll know how to heal them in a minute. I've never actually needed a healing ability before," Dorian muttered. "And I _could_ have someone else do it, but I'm sure he'll have me demonstrate that I'd learned it," his voice trailed off as he studied the passage, mumbling under his breath, the fingers of his left hand flexed and glowed with a soft blue light.  
  
Satisfied he sat back, muttered a few words and moved the fingers of his left hand over his right. Before Kaim's eyes the burns dissolved and healed, leaving behind new, soft skin.  
  
"Ah," he spread his fingers and waved them in triumph, "much better!" when his head finally came up he found Kaim was very close, his hair draped over his shoulder and onto the desk, still holding Dorian's tome open dutifully, his eyes trained on the fingers Dorian had just healed in fascination, those soft lips were parted slightly...  
  
_Dear Maker_ , keeping his oath was going to be difficult. He swallowed hard and sat back affecting some distance between them before he rose smoothly. Shook from his stupor Kaim quickly closed the book and put it away, helped Dorian change, then served him his dinner.  
  
Once the meal was cleared away Dorian settled into his bed with a book and Kaim tidied up, but Dorian's eyes wouldn't stay on the page.  
  
"Kaim?" the elf turned on hearing his name. "Would you dance for me tonight?" Dorian looked so tired.  
  
"Of course, Master. I will be right back," Kaim disappeared into his room and returned a few minutes later wearing something that made Dorian intensely glad his waist was buried in blankets. The elf was shirtless and wore only black pants that rode low on his hips. They were baggy but gathered at the ankle to allow the gold bangles around his slender ankles to chime with each step. Similar bangles adorned his wrists and his hair flowed completely free around him.  
  
He was only partway across the room again when he began to dance. Mid-stride he bent and touched the floor, his body twisted into a front walkover. Right foot touched down, as he straightened his left foot passed without touching the floor and continued up behind him, his arms arched over his head to meet the sole of his foot behind his head.  
  
As he lowered his torso parallel to the floor he shifted his weight and flipped over, maintaining his midair split until his back faced the ground then bent back and folded through a back walkover. Without stopping his body undulated, moving to a rhythm only he could seem to hear.  
  
The sheer amount of sexual desire that coursed through Dorian's body was almost overwhelming and he couldn't resist stroking himself through his pants under the covers discretely as he watched those masculine hips gyrate independently of the rest of him.  
  
The gold bangles played their own song to his dance, his hair trailed him like a midnight silk curtain, and his tan skin practically glowed in the candle light. After a moment Dorian realized he was dancing with his eyes shut and his lips lightly parted, he resisted the strong urge to groan.  
  
The tone of the dance shifted slightly as he performed incredible acrobatic feats, leaping, flipping, and springing into the air, his lithe body twisted as though he might take flight any moment.  
  
Dorian almost leapt from his bed in surprise when Kaim seemed to melt to the floor on one landing, completely flowing to the ground. The mage bit his lip to stop a heated groan as he then watched Kaim practically writhe on the floor, his limbs bending, twisting, his back arching, hair fanned with his movement.  
  
Movements so smooth he twirled to his feet and continued dancing. A few minutes later his movements slowed and he melted down until he was kneeling, face down, signifying the dance had ended.  
  
Clapping drew his head up and he regarded his master with glowing cheeks, noting the flush on the mage's cheeks as well. Kaim had chosen this dance specifically and it appeared to have had the intended effect.  
  
"That was...incredible," Dorian congratulated and Kaim beamed. "You must be tired though, I know I am. You may retire to your room for the evening."  
  
Kaim smoothly rose to his feet and Dorian couldn't help watching him, completely entranced as he made his way to Dorian's bedside, the bangles chiming the whole way.  
  
"Are you alright, Master?" Kaim asked, the concern on his delicate features melted Dorian a little more.  
  
"I am fine, Kaim. Just tired."  
  
"Do you need anything before I go?"  
  
"No, but thank you. I'm just going to read for a little," he indicated the book in his lap.  
  
Kaim nodded then moved swiftly about the room, extinguishing all the other candles, leaving just the one by his bedside.  
  
"Call me if you have need of me," Kaim bowed his head gracefully, his hands folded before him, but something about the way he'd said it gave Dorian pause. Unable to stop himself he watched Kaim's muscular back and hips the whole way to his room until he finally disappeared.  
  
In relief Dorian collapsed back on his pillows and slid his hand in his pants, gripping his painfully hard erection, biting back a whimper. This was a totally new sensation for him, he'd been aroused by other men before, but never so completely consumed by it.  
  
Unable to contain himself he slipped from the bed, wrapping in his robe as he went, and made his way to his bathing rooms. Once closed safely within the toilet portion of the rooms he eagerly parted his robes, dropped his pants, and stroked himself, allowing a sigh of relief to escape.  
  
Thoughts full of Kaim's graceful body, soft skin, silken hair, and those gorgeous eyes Dorian propped his left forearm against the wall and leaned his forehead on it, pumping firmly with his right hand. Heated gasps and soft moans escaped him as a tightness coiled under his belly, his fingers danced faster along his erection, imagining Kaim's fingers and soft lips instead.  
  
Without warning he came hard, grunting in his release, trembling with the force of it and for a moment stars danced across his vision. The most mind blowing orgasm of his short sixteen years and all it took was thoughts of his own slave.  
  
He was in trouble.  
  
With most of his expended pleasure caught in his palm he just leaned his sweaty forehead against the cool tile and groaned despondently.  
  
This was going to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months pass and Kaim's personality continues to flourish. Is Dorian setting his slave up for potential disaster?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much lore regarding Tevinter or blood magic, so I may have made up a lot of the facts in the chapter. Let me know if you have sources that disprove or even prove anything I've said in this chapter. I'm always interested in Dragon Age lore, especially confirmed accurate lore.

[ ](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/113575984565/this-was-supposed-to-show-the-difference-in-height)  
  


With each passing week Kaim seemed to open up a little more. It was an interesting process to watch and Dorian felt blessed to have his own private viewing of Kaim becoming a person. For that was what truly was happening. It became clear as such one day when he made a flippant comment but received no response. He had looked up to find out if Kaim had even been listening, but found the elf standing there, hands clutched in front of him, staring at them intently, his eyebrows knit in concentration.  
  
“Did I offend?” Dorian had asked.  
  
Kaim’s head had snapped up in surprise. “N-no...I don’t think,” he looked confused a moment and his eyes had drifted to the side, still thinking. “I’m...trying to decide if I do or don’t like it.” The revelation startled Dorian. He was attempting to form his own opinion. Dorian had wanted to cheer, but instead respectfully let the boy think as long as he needed. When his expression had finally cleared Dorian asked him if he’d come to a decision. The elf had nodded with a wide grin. It was completely endearing.  
  
Day in and day out Kaim was by his side, always there, listening, and when they were alone Dorian would draw him into conversation, allowing him to express himself and hear what he had to say. So why was it then that even in the few moments of night when Dorian was supposed to be resting and free of him for a few hours did the elf blithely skip through his thoughts causing havoc and preventing sleep?  
  
Familiarity was supposed to breed contempt, not more affection. Dorian frowned.  
  
The mage rolled onto his side with a frustrated huff. It was well past time he should have been asleep but he continued laying awake, thinking of blue green eyes and ebony flowing hair. Damn elf.  
  
Covers kicked to the bottom of the bed, he sulked his way to the bathing rooms, relieving himself, hoping a newly emptied bladder might help him fall asleep. Idly he glanced at his reflection, rubbing the stubble just beginning to show from his shave this past morning. Maybe he should grow a mustache? Nah.  
  
Feet padding the floor very inelegantly he made his way back to his bed, but a soft, barely audible sound drew his attention and he paused. For a moment the sound did not repeat and he leaned forward to climb into the bed, then he heard it again. It was...coming from somewhere behind him. Turning he moved farther into the room and waited again.  
  
There. It was coming from Kaim’s room.  
  
As silently as possible he moved to the closed door and stood close to it, listening for the sound again. It almost sounded like...moaning? Not of a sexual nature though. Dorian was torn. Respect Kaim’s privacy? Or check to see if something was legitimately wrong?  
  
The overwhelming desire to protect Kaim won out and he pushed the door open as quietly as possible. The tiny window provided light from the full moon that illuminated the room in a bluish glow. On the little cot against the wall lay Kaim, wearing only pants, coated in sweat, thrashing as though someone or something were trying to hold him down, small whimpers escaped his throat, his hair stuck to his face and neck in clumps.  
  
Without thinking Dorian crossed immediately to his side and sat on the cot beside him, his intent to wake him, but then his oath filled his mind. He wasn’t to touch Kaim without permission. How was he to wake him then? Hovering in indecision, watching Kaim’s agonized face he felt so helpless.  
  
The expression on his face was completely new, those dramatic eyebrows were pulled up and knit together, his lips were pulled down into a grimace and parted slightly, his perfect white teeth gnashed, and Dorian wanted nothing more than to smooth away the distress lines with his lips and fingers.  
  
“Kaim,” he called gently. “Kaim, it’s Dorian. You’re dreaming, please wake up!”  
  
Kaim thrashed harder.  
  
“Kaim!”  
  
The elf shot up with a strangled cry and before Dorian could blink he’d pressed himself as far as he could get into the corner, gripping his wrists as if they hurt, tears streaked down his cheeks, his eyes darting around the room, trying to make sense of the fading dream visions now overlaid by reality.  
  
“Kaim,” Dorian called softly, “it’s alright, you’re safe. It was a dream,” he bent so he could look Kaim in the eyes, moving a little bit closer, his hands braced on the bed, still warm from Kaim’s body.  
  
The ragged breathing slowed and he wound down slightly from his tense position against the corner. Abruptly he covered his face with his hands and made a soft sobbing sound.  
  
“M-master, I’m so s-sorry if I d-disturbed your sleep,” his hair curtained around him, sticking to his shoulders and falling forward, shadowing his face from view and he curled his legs up against his chest. He looked so small and fragile right then and Dorian wanted so badly to scoop the other man up and hug him close.  
  
“You didn’t. I had gotten up to relieve myself when I heard you. It was very soft, I almost didn’t catch it at all.”  
  
“Would that you hadn’t.”  
  
“And leave you in the grips of that hellacious nightmare? Bite your tongue. Rather you wake me than leave you to suffer so,” Dorian watched Kaim carefully, noting his breathing was finally returning to normal levels. “Kaim, I would like to ask your permission to touch you.”  
  
“W-what? Why?” Kaim practically hiccuped and still refused to look up, his face buried in his palms.  
  
“Please just trust me,” the mage entreated. Kaim seemed to hesitate but finally nodded ever so slightly. Without hesitation Dorian moved closer and gathered Kaim into his arms. At first the elf stiffened and resisted somewhat, but after a few moments of Dorian gently stroking his hair he relaxed slightly, leaning against him. So as not to startle him Dorian moved slowly and deliberately, once Kaim was settled against his chest between his legs he ran his fingers down Kaim’s arm until he reached his right wrist. Very gently he pulled it from his face and proceeded to massage the delicate feeling wrist with his fingers, marveling at just how small the joint felt in comparison to his own. How anyone could hurt such a magnificent creature was beyond him and he tenderly rubbed the lightly scarred flesh, making sure not to encircle his wrist or in any way make him feel trapped or bound.  
  
Once satisfied he’d eased all the tension out of his hand he moved in the same manner to the other one and repeated his ministrations.  
  
“I know it is not easy, and I cannot even fathom what you have endured, but banish it from thought. No one will ever touch you as such ever again. If they try I will kill them. Go to sleep at night with the comforting thought that to get to you they would literally have to go through me.”  
  
There were a few silent moments before Kaim nodded his head very slightly. “I-I’m...sorry...for this. Y-you shouldn’t have to…”  
  
“Take care of you?” Dorian supplied.  
  
Kaim nodded.  
  
“Kaim, it is a pleasure to take care of you. And I’d like to think we’re more than just slave and master, that you’re my friend?”  
  
That brought Kaim’s head up and he stared at Dorian with impossibly large eyes, still glittering slightly from his tears.  
  
“And as such, I do not want you hiding these things from me, understand?” he asked and Kaim obediently nodded. “No, no, that’s not what I want. I don’t want a slave’s obedience. I want your promise as my friend that you’ll tell me when these things happen,” he cocked his head, studying the plethora of emotions that flitted across Kaim’s face.  
  
“I-I...I don’t know how to do that,” Kaim confessed.  
  
“You say, _alright, Dorian, I promise I won’t hide my nightmares or any suffering from you in the future_ and then you tell me when these things happen,” he supplied with a smile.  
  
“But...how is that different?” Kaim sat back from him slightly, brushing his drying hair off his shoulders, the confusion clear on his features.  
  
“The intent behind it is different. You nodded at me out of duty. I want to know these things because I’m concerned for you. Not as a master, but because you’ve proven to be a good person and I care about what happens to you,” Dorian couldn’t believe the words that were spilling from his mouth. This had never happened before. Ever. In all his wildest dreams he never thought he’d call someone a friend the way he meant it with Kaim. In just their few weeks together he now could honestly say he felt Kaim was a friend, despite him being a slave.  
  
“I-I...I will try,” Kaim looked up at him earnestly and Dorian smiled back, it was really all he could ask for. All this was so new to Kaim, in very similar ways it was new to Dorian as well. A true friend? Someone he could trust? Completely foreign, but at the same time so unbelievably welcome and achingly needed.  
  
\---  
  
This magical theory Alexius was having him study was going to drive Dorian to distraction, he just knew it. A tortured sigh escaped him and he rubbed his face before casting his eyes about, seeking his elf. That was becoming a bad habit, he told himself. Unfortunately admitting this only seemed to make it worse.  
  
After a moment he found Kaim, organizing and putting away the new books they'd acquired earlier that day. It astounded him how quickly the elf picked things up, it wouldn't be long before his reading skills rivaled that of Dorian's. It only took a few seconds of watching Kaim to realize he was struggling and Dorian bit back laughter. The bookshelves were too tall, Kaim couldn't reach the top shelf to put the book he was holding away.  
  
The ebony head swiveled between the book and up at the out of reach shelf, considering how to deal with the situation. Kaim was so consumed by his problem that he failed to notice the other presence until Dorian was directly beside him, the taller man's body so close he could feel the heat radiating off him and the slave startled.  
  
Dorian chuckled. "Would you like me to give you a boost?" he asked, gazing down at the short elf who scowled up at him.  
  
"No!" he snapped. "It's your fault for being too tall as it is. I live in a world of behemoths," he muttered darkly and Dorian threw his head back with a laugh.  
  
"May I?" he asked, indicating he wished to touch Kaim and the shorter man nodded his affirmation. Dorian gently took the book away then wrapped his arm around the elf's shoulders and pulled him into the crook of his shoulder. "I don't know, I think it's a perfect fit," he grinned down at Kaim, adoring the light flush that dusted his cheekbones.  
  
Casually he reached up and put the book where it belonged, when he looked down again Kaim had his arms crossed and was glaring in a surly manner up at the shelf.  
  
"You win this round," he told it and Dorian threw his head back in another laugh, briefly he hugged Kaim to him before releasing him.  
  
"We'll get you a step stool," the mage chuckled.  
  
"Or just stop being tall," Kaim grumbled, but a small smile settled on his features.  
  
"Or you could grow?" Dorian suggested.  
  
" _Or_ I could just pout and look pathetic and you'll come over and do it for me," he proceeded to adopt the most adorable pouty expression Dorian had ever seen in his life. Those beautiful eyes were impossibly large and glassy, his bottom lip stuck out slightly, and the noble swore his ears drooped a little.  
  
"You manipulative little _kaffas_!" Dorian flinched back from the overwhelming image, unable to resist grinning. The night Kaim had his nightmare appeared to be a turning point for the young elf, for which Dorian was eternally grateful. This teasing, adorable side of Kaim delighted him and he enjoyed every moment.  
  
Kaim smiled wickedly. "I can also cry on command, so no short jokes," he pointed at Dorian sternly.  
  
"You can seriously?" the mage asked with a laugh.  
  
Kaim nodded. "Most dancers can. It helps lend authenticity to interpretive dance, although I've been told the difference between faking it and real tears is fairly obvious," he shrugged, then eyed Dorian suspiciously. "You're supposed to be studying."  
  
"Ugh! You're worse than Alexius!" Dorian complained and collapsed in his chair.  
  
"Are the properties of earth magic boring to you?" Kaim teased, snagging Dorian's book from his desk and perusing the paragraphs on the open pages.  
  
"I want to go to Nevarra and see the grand necropolis! Not study stone fist spells!" the mage exclaimed excitedly, stealing the book back.  
  
"And visit all the shambling dead people?" Kaim asked distastefully, raising one elegant eyebrow.  
  
"Yes. I want to visit all the dead people. Infinitely better than all the prospective wives my father forces on me," he shivered and Kaim laughed.  
  
"Touche."  
  
\---  
  
“Dorian, what is your opinion on blood magic?” Alexius’ voice brought Dorian out of the tome he’d been slogging through on earth magic and he glanced up at his patron. Alexius stood tall and regal at the other end of the study table, his piercing eyes regarding Dorian as he waited for an answer.  
  
“The last resort of a weak mind,” Dorian quoted his father then almost cringed. Thus far that was one of the few things he hadn’t seen his father break yet. But just because he hadn’t seen it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.  
  
Alexius nodded, pleased. “Aptly stated. Blood magic lends power to the user too weak to fully manipulate magic to its greatest potential,” Alexius clasped his hands together behind his back and meandered off toward one of his bookshelves. “This however, means that those who feel threatened by you may wish to utilize such a crutch in effort to surpass your own considerable skills. It is always best to understand your enemy and the power he may use against you, even if you do not approve of its use.”  
  
Dorian watched his patron in slight trepidation. Did Alexius mean to teach him blood magic?  
  
“What is the greatest threat to blood?”  
  
The question threw Dorian. The greatest threat? A  moment his mind cast about, trying to determine if he meant the physical properties or the magical properties. As Dorian was unaware of the magical properties, having never been schooled, he decided to go with physical.  
  
“Time and air,” he stated with as much confidence as possible, thinking over the medical properties of blood.  
  
“Correct. Blood will congeal and become ruined quickly if left out for too long exposed to the air. You are forgetting one property, however,” Alexius glanced back at Dorian with a half smile. “Blood needs to remain warm to stay viable. Therefore you would not wish to use fire spells against a blood magic user. Not that they wouldn’t have damaging effects, but ice is a much stronger weapon. It slows the blood in the very veins of the user, makes it sluggish and less powerful, it chills the air and promotes congealing. Time and air do not do you much good in a magical fight, but frost spells will have a very stringent negative effect on a blood magic user’s ability to be deadly.”  
  
Alexius wandered the room as he spoke and Dorian leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to the magister, contemplating this rather simple yet potent revelation. It wasn’t something he would have thought of on the fly, he didn’t think anyway.  
  
“Blood magic is also not as easily nullified, as it is not pulled from the fade in the normal manner or from lyrium, it is however, much more delicate, and much easier to lose control of. Hence the reason many fall to abominations. Blood magic is, quite literally, an open door into the fade. Break that concentration and the connection quickly crumbles. Without enough viable blood the connection is also severed. The quickest way to end a fight with a blood mage is take away their supply. Depending on their goal, most mages won’t kill themselves to accomplish their desired outcome,” Alexius gave him a chuckle.  
  
“As you grow in power, the amount of blood they would need to overcome you would also increase exponentially. For a mage of your skill and possible future skill it would all depend on the element of surprise. There is no designated school of resistance that applies to blood magic, as most of the time blood magic is simply the power source behind the magic, but there are spells specific to blood magic. Of the four schools: creation, entropy, spirit, and primal, it would more closely be tied to entropy or creation. Life and death. Blood is a natural part of life and in the spilling of it, death. Although not as effective as say, wearing a frost resistance sash would be against a freeze spell, either of those would have a slight nullification effect on a pure blood magic spell.”  
  
Dorian nodded and considered the information carefully.  
  
“I teach you these things as you grow in power day by day. There are those in Tevinter who use subterfuge and death to gain political power. Your father is a magister and you will one day inherit his seat in the magisterium. If you are to survive to that day it is important you have the skills and the knowledge of your enemy to combat any attempts that might be made.”  
  
Dorian raised a brow. “Are you hearing death threats toward me already?” the young Pavus chuckled.  
  
“No, but do not think your sudden rise in power and skill has gone unnoticed. For a youth of your age to succeed so effortlessly in mortalitasi is unheard of. To leave you woefully unprepared would be a fault of mine. One I will not see go unamended.”  
  
Dorian nodded.  
  
Later that evening, Dorian collapsed against his bed, utterly exhausted and smiled when Kaim came into view.  
  
“Will you be sleeping fully clothed? Or will you stand long enough to allow me to change you?” the elf gave him an arched brow and he all out laughed. “As long as you hold your balance you won’t even have to do anything. Alas, I cannot hold you upright and change you. I have not yet developed those skills,” Kaim continued teasing him and Dorian sat up, amusement twinkling in his grey eyes.  
  
“I have faith in you,” he said mischievously.  
  
“I do not. Last time you went boneless on me I ended up with my hair pulled out by your evil buckles. Never again. I’ll just let you fall down this time,” Kaim turned up his nose slightly, pleased when Dorian guffawed and held his side, chuckling like a madman.  
  
“Fine, I will stand long enough for you to change me,” Dorian acted as though just standing up was a burden and Kaim rolled his eyes. Despite his indication otherwise, Dorian did help the elf as he was changed from his mage robes into sleepwear. Dorian couldn’t help noting a rather pensive look on Kaim’s face.  
  
“I need to acquire a squirt bottle,” Dorian said suddenly.  
  
Kaim raised an eyebrow at the odd statement. “What? Why?”  
  
“So every time you look like you’re holding back I can squirt you like one would an errant cat,” Dorian laughed jovially at the deadpan expression Kaim leveled him with.  
  
“I wasn’t ready to articulate my thoughts yet, Master,” Kaim shot back. “But since you insist, and I would rather not be sprayed with water, I will tell you what is on my mind,” Kaim gave him a withering look before turning and putting away his mage robes very carefully. “I was thinking on Alexius’ lecture today,” after a moment he turned and looked up at Dorian. “Do you really think someone would want to hurt you?” Kaim had the most concerned expression on his face and it brought a warm smile to Dorian’s.  
  
“It was just precautionary, like Alexius said,” the mage reassured him.  
  
“Yes, but he also said there have been those who have noted your rise in skill...are you in danger?” the dark brows were knit up in worry and Dorian wanted so badly to smooth them away.  
  
“Do not worry for my safety. I am always prepared,” Dorian looked at him oddly when Kaim’s face suddenly dropped into an expression of unimpressed disbelief.  
  
“I dropped a bowl in the bathing room the other night and you didn’t cease your snoring long enough to even notice,” Kaim told him, his eyes lidded in a dispassionate expression.  
  
“Maybe because I knew it was you,” Dorian stated haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. Kaim blinked at him a few times, completely unimpressed. “Fine!” Dorian relented, throwing his hands up, “what? Do you want me to put magical wards up?”  
  
Kaim chuckled. “Not even remotely, Master. I doubt someone would have the gall to attack you in your home. It simply worried me a little, I had no idea nobles would attack one another so...openly.”  
  
Dorian gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, it would most assuredly not be openly, as you put it. There would be significant subterfuge involved to keep the perpetrator from discovery. They would have to be veritably foolish to willy nilly attack the son of Magister Pavus. Finally, something actually _beneficial_ from the lunacy of the magisterium,” Dorian muttered and Kaim smiled.  
  
“Turn your mind from unpleasant thoughts and toward sleep and rest. You will need it,” Kaim encouraged him to climb into bed and Dorian raised his eyebrow at the elf as the covers were arranged around him.  
  
“You’re the one who brought it up,” he shot at him with a grin.  
  
“At the threat of being sprayed with water like a misbehaving animal!” Kaim scowled at him and the mage laughed.  
  
“Fine, it is always my fault,” Dorian threw himself back onto the pillows dramatically.  
  
“At last, you see reason,” Kaim chuckled at Dorian’s fake disapproving glare and he moved about the room extinguishing all the candles. Dorian watched him placidly and bade him goodnight, continuing to watch him until the elf disappeared into the bathing rooms for his meditations. Kaim had improved in leaps and bounds and the young Pavus couldn’t stop the smile that lit his features. He tried very carefully to allow the elf’s own personality to flourish, without any influence of his own, but he couldn’t help loving the wit, charm, and humor Kaim was developing. Dorian was always praised for such qualities and he sincerely hoped he wasn’t just imprinting his own personality over the one Kaim might otherwise have developed, but such fears were usually waylaid when Kaim would staunchly disagree with him on one matter or another.  
  
Compounded by the fact that Kaim’s own wit seemed to come from a fire within, spurred on by an internal motivation, he truly believed he was watching the true Kaim emerge once again and he loved every moment of it. There were moments, sometimes whole days when the slave would revert, once again sinking into himself and fall back on his training. Very careful coaxing on his own part seemed to help, but just treating him as a person, despite him acting as a slave was usually the cure to such episodes.  
  
Only a few months living under the Pavus estate roof and already Dorian couldn’t imagine his life without Kaim.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim lounged on the divan in Dorian’s apartments, reading the latest book he’d become enthralled with: a litany on the art of war that Dorian touted as militaristic rubbish. The elf smiled, thinking of his master. In the past six months of his servitude to Dorian the two had become inseparable, much to his father’s increasing dismay.  
  
_“Where do you go that your infernal elf does not follow?”_ he’d asked in exasperation one day when Kaim was brought with him to marriage treaty discussions.  
  
_“What if I find myself in need of handing him something?”_ came the snarky reply and Halward glared at him in annoyance.  
  
_“Do you have something you need to hand him NOW?”_ he had asked peevishly. With slow deliberate motions Dorian had reached down, removed an accessory from his belt and held it out to Kaim who took it with a bow of his head, then stood holding it as though it were a precious treasure. Magister Halward had stormed from the room, fuming. With each passing day he and his son clashed more, it seemed they were incapable of holding a conversation without one or the other becoming irritated. Usually both.  
  
Dorian had found Kaim’s company invaluable. Not only was the elf an information sponge, possessed of an excellent memory and the capability of reiterating word verbatim what someone spoke to him of the week before, but he also was a marvellous deterrent for his parents, who preferred not to speak of sensitive family matters in front of him. In one of the rare moments they caught Dorian alone his mother had expressed she felt the thing’s unnaturally large ears upon her at all times. _“The thing.”_ She had called his Kaim a thing.  
  
The doors were thrown open dramatically and Dorian swept in, slamming them shut behind him, his robes accentuating his agitated movements and Kaim glanced up over his book in amusement.  
  
“Trouble in paradise, Master?” Kaim continued to call him master to irritate him, not out of necessity anymore.  
  
“My magnanimous father has seen fit to set me up with yet another betrothal meeting! I don’t know how many more of these I can sabotage!” the young mage crossed to his bed and flopped on it despairingly, covering his eyes with his forearm in a dramatic gesture that had Kaim rolling his eyes. Gracefully Kaim left his book behind and slipped off the divan, crossing the room on silent feet. Upon reaching the bed he crawled across it until he was close enough to his master to lay on his stomach, his body draped width wise along the massive bed, propped on his elbows and began to massage Dorian’s scalp with his dextrous fingers, smiling at the blissful noises Dorian began to exude.  
  
“You are a blessing from the Maker himself,” Dorian mumbled, already sounding as though about to fall into slumber.  
  
“And your comfort interrupted riveting reading,” Kaim murmured softly near Dorian’s ear.  
  
The mage snorted in amusement, ignoring the heat that pooled in his stomach at the warm breath so near his ear. “Are you still reading that militaristic trash?” he teased his servant.  
  
“It teaches balance in chaos, calm within the storm. Perhaps you should consider it instead of dismissing it. Your life appears in need of a little calming influence,” he teased back, his fingers working magic through Dorian’s thick dark hair. Secretly Kaim lay his hands on his master at every given opportunity, which the taller man never once denied him. True to his word, however, he never lay a finger on Kaim without expressly asking, leaving the elf both relieved and a little frustrated. Dorian’s touch would be welcome, but if he felt so strongly he would not intrude on his master’s desires.  
  
It did slightly alarm Kaim however, when he realized he actually desired his master. The feeling had taken quite some time identify as it was wholly foreign to the slave. Always pleasures had been taken _from_ his flesh, never instilled in him. Sex had just been another task he had to perform, never had he ever craved or desired it. And he could say with confidence that he definitely did now.  
  
“Mmmm, forget the book. All I need in life is your masterful fingers,” the last part came out in a breathy moan as Kaim’s fingertips reached his temples and the elf’s cheeks flushed warmly. “Have you continued your studies of Tevinter government?” Dorian sat up abruptly and Kaim bemoaned the loss of his master beneath his fingers, folding them under his chin and bending his knees to swing his feet back and forth.  
  
“Of course, I finished it already,” he smiled as Dorian raised a brow at him.  
  
“The book is massive!” Dorian complained.  
  
“As are many other things I’ve gained mastery of,” he let the innuendo hang in the air a moment while Dorian laughed heartily, ignoring the stiffening in his pants at the thought, very glad he was still wearing his robes. “What about you?” he asked, pinning Dorian with a withering glare. “You’re up for _Altus_ at eighteen. That’s only a year away.”  
  
“I don’t need the reminder,” Dorian told him peevishly as he began removing his mage accoutrements. Kaim slid gracefully off the bed and moved to assist Dorian, unbuckling the complicated leather straps, belts, pouches, and pieces that went with the mage robes.  
  
“Apparently you do, I was looking over your notes. Were you even paying attention during Alexius’ last lecture?” Kaim chided him gently.  
  
“I’ve had a lot on my mind, you know that,” Dorian sounded tired and Kaim glanced up at him worriedly.  
  
“Perhaps an early night then? A warm bath and a little wine might do you some good as well,” Kaim continued helping an unresisting Dorian out of his mage robes. “I’m sure I can convince Ardraya to part with a single glass for you. Your father doesn’t have to know.”  
  
“You are too good to me, you know that?” Dorian raised a brow at him teasingly.  
  
“Trust me, I know,” Kaim grinned at his master who returned with a brilliant smile of his own. “Bath before or after your dinner? Your mother and father will be out this evening, so you can eat here,” Kaim informed him to which Dorian gave a happy smile.  
  
“After. I’ll have the wine then too.”  
  
Kaim nodded. “I’ll bring it with your dinner.”  
  
Later found Dorian sunk to his neck in a steaming bath, the empty glass of wine resting on the side of the tiled tub, eyes shut contentedly. Silently Kaim padded into the bathing room, clean towels piled in his arms and herbal oil in his hand. With sure movements he set the towels and oil down, bent swiftly to roll up his pant legs, then retrieved the bottle and stepped lightly into the bath next to Dorian.  
  
“Lean forward,” his words were soft and Dorian did as bid, shifting his hips back on the seat so his back rose more out of the steaming water. Kaim's hands moved in practiced motions as he spread the oil liberally over Dorian’s back and began to work the muscles, fingers kneading, massaging, and relaxing all the knots and tension they found. Slowly Kaim felt the stress drain out of Dorian until the muscles were pliable and moulded to his fingers will.  
  
“Kaim, are you happy with me?” the words were so soft the elf almost missed them even with his superior hearing.  
  
Immediately his hands stilled in their ministrations before picking up again. “What kind of question is that?” Kaim berated him.  
  
“A serious one,” Dorian caught his hand on his shoulder and held it there, seizing the breath in Kaim’s throat. It was the first time since Dorian had taken up his hands the day he’d arrived that he’d voluntarily touched the elf. It was difficult to tell Dorian’s intent behind the question, his head was bowed, turned away, and the steam helped hide what part of his face he could actually see.  
  
“Of course I am,” Kaim told him emphatically. “I’d probably be dead if not for you. But now I can read, do alchemical equations, argue arcane theorem, debate Tevinter politics...and take care of you,” Kaim flipped his hand so he could squeeze Dorian’s fingers. “Without me _you’d_ probably be dead,” he told him with a quirked smile, happy to hear Dorian’s snort of laughter.  
  
“Very likely. My father would have buried me long ago if not for you,” his voice held both amusement and sadness in equal measure. For a moment he sat still, thoughts whirring through his head. “It’s a terrible thing to lose respect for parents you once would have done anything to please,” he said quietly.  
  
“Melancholy thoughts of a tired mind. I would see you get a good night’s rest and regain your chipper self on the morrow,” Kaim told him firmly, resuming his backrub in earnest. “Magister Alexius is still immensely pleased with your progress and I desire to see his admiration continue to grow. For that, rest is needed,” Kaim rose from the tub and stepped gracefully out, unaware of Dorian’s eyes trailing his movements. Momentarily he turned with a towel and held it out. Obediently Dorian rose and allowed Kaim to help him dry before wrapping him in a soft robe.  
  
It had been a long time since Kaim had first gotten to see Dorian naked. The mage had little shame and gave no second thought to simply disrobing and walking across his apartments completely in the nude. It was a sight Kaim quickly adjusted to, though enjoyed no less with each viewing. Dorian was extraordinarily well built, possessed of a muscular, youthful body, and blessedly endowed, even soft as he was now.  
  
Familiar warmth of desire spread across Kaim's stomach as he followed his master into his bedroom and helped him dress for bed. Dorian had laughingly told him it was unnecessary to assist him every time he changed clothes, but Kaim insisted. In addition to a heart grateful to have such a kind, gentle master, it also gave more opportunity for Kaim's hands to touch.  
  
While Dorian grabbed a book from one of his shelves Kaim turned down his bed and set things just the way Dorian liked them for reading before sleep.  
  
"Master," Kaim hesitated a moment then turned as Dorian approached. "I have a question if I may?"  
  
"Dorian."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dorian laughed. "You know you may ask anything you wish," Dorian's eyes twinkled as he collapsed on the bed with his book. Dutifully Kaim tucked him in and pulled the blankets to his waist. Dorian would be lying if he said he didn't greatly enjoy the attention.  
  
"You have not asked me to dance for you again since that first time, months ago. Did I displease you?"  
  
Dorian studied him a moment, considering what he should tell him. It wouldn't do to blurt out that he'd have to go rub one out after each time Kaim danced.  
  
"Absolutely not, your dancing is divine, and it's part of how I noticed you in the first place. Honestly I've been so consumed with both our education in the evenings that it's simply slipped my mind. Do you desire to dance?" he asked curiously.  
  
"I do miss it, Master. I used to dance every day. My meditations do not quite replace the joy of the dance," Kaim confessed with a small smile.  
  
"Then I will have you dance for me again soon," he smiled brilliantly at the elf who smiled back.  
  
On silent feet Kaim traipsed about the room, extinguishing candles and tidying up. When he slipped from the room to return Dorian's dinner tray and wine glass to the kitchen, Dorian dropped the pretense of reading and collapsed back against his mountain of pillows with an exasperated sigh.  
  
It had been a hope that over the months a familiarity would set in that faded his desire for the elf, this however had backfired in the worst of ways. If anything his desire had increased tenfold. Not just desire, Kaim proved to be a beautiful individual in personality as well as appearance. Dorian had no idea how he'd gotten along before Kaim had come into his life.  
  
For the longest time Dorian just lay there, his book open and forgotten on his chest, staring at the curtains draping his bed, thoughts of Kaim dancing through his head. Literally.  
  
He wasn't sure why he did it, but when his door clicked softly, indicating Kaim's return he closed his eyes and feigned sleep, evening and deepening his breathing. Even knowing Kaim was there and listening for his movements it was impossible to hear him moving about.  
  
After long moments of silence the book on his chest was gently removed and Dorian cracked his eyes just enough to see Kaim turn with it to his night stand, an adorable and sweet smile on the elf's face. Eyes closed again, he focused on his breathing until he felt Kaim adjust his blankets, pulling them higher on his chest.  
  
A few long moments passed and Dorian thought for a moment that Kaim may have left, but soft fingers touched his forehead, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen out of place back. Had Kaim just been sitting there looking at him? Dorian idly realized his hair was getting longer than he usually kept it. When the fingers continued to linger a moment Dorian sorely wished he could open his eyes to see the expression on Kaim's face.  
  
Could this be an indication that Kaim fostered similar feelings for Dorian? It would be impossible to tell and completely wrong to initiate anything, any affection he felt for Dorian could be called misguided. Dorian had helped him become who he was as a person, even though half the time Kaim disagreed with him or mouthed off at him. Dorian resisted the urge to smile.  
  
After a few more moments the fingers withdrew and Dorian felt strangely alone. Long seconds dragged by until Dorian's hearing was finally able to distinguish the soft rustle of fabric near the far side of the room.  
  
Deeming it safe to crack his eyes he discovered Kaim, neatly folding his sash over his arm, then he removed his tunic and folded this too before he disappeared shirtless into the bathing rooms. Ah, his meditations. One day he would watch him perform those.  
  
Even though he desired to stay awake until Kaim came back out he soon fell right to sleep.  
  
\---  
  
"No, this clause here negates that," Dorian rebutted, pointing at the tiny text in the massive book he had spread across his thighs. Chair turned backward at his desk, his feet were propped on a nearby bookshelf, crossed at the ankle, and he was slouched down so his head rest on the back of the chair. For someone so elegant he slouched quite a bit at times. Kaim smiled down at his head.  
  
The elf sat perched on his desk, reading over his shoulder, legs delicately crossed at the knee. His long hair draped over the shoulder closest to Dorian and it would brush his shoulder lightly when he leaned forward to point out passages.  
  
"It appears to be a very cyclical and drawn out process without much hope of success," Kaim commented with a small frown.  
  
"Likely intended that way to dissuade anyone from attempting it," Dorian yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes. It appeared buying the freedom of a slave was not as easy as Dorian had hoped. There were miles of red tape to cut through.  
  
"What if-" Kaim's head snapped up suddenly and he leapt to his feet, snatched up a book, stood at attention to the side of Dorian's desk, eyes lowered demurely.  
  
"Kaim, fetch me the _Rhetoric of the Divine Magisterium_ ," Dorian called grandly just as his father burst through the doors of his quarters. Lazily his head came up to consider his father as he stalked across the room to his desk. "Ah, yes, do come in, father. So courteous of you to knock," the sarcasm practically dripped from his voice.  
  
Long ago he'd learned to rely on Kaim's hearing to warn him of his father's imminent arrival and stopped questioning when Kaim would suddenly interrupt himself and stand at attention. Kaim handed him the book he'd asked for.  
  
"This is _my_ house. I will or will not knock upon my own wishes," Halward snapped.  
  
"So you say, father," Dorian drawled, opening the book and proceeding to ignore him.  
  
"You will be eighteen in less than a year's time. Will you continue to find flaw with every possible match we provide for you?" his father snapped, referring to the daughter of a highly placed noble house who he'd spurned earlier that morning, claiming magic didn't run strongly enough in her bloodline. It sorely irritated his father to discover his son had actually been right. One branch of her family he hadn't noticed had been bereft of magic for generations.  
  
Every potential match Dorian usurped by way of research, he always managed to find some fatal flaw to make them an unworthy partner, thus allowing him to escape the contract.  
  
"The archon isn't married, so why should I be?" Dorian asked haughtily.  
  
"Because he inherited the seat on his father's death!"  
  
"Not my fault. I'll have access to better candidates when I'm archon," he told his father snidely.  
  
"You ungrateful child!"  
  
"I thought you wanted nothing but the best for me. So _why_ you keep insisting on tying the Pavus name down with riffraff I'm afraid I don't quite understand," he sighed dramatically. "I am for _Altus_ in short time, was there something _important_ you needed, father? I have studies to attend to," his eyes never left the book he'd been reading, his feet still propped on the shelf.  
  
"One day I will find a match you are unable to squirm out of!" his father snapped.  
  
"Unlikely. Even the great House of Pavus has its dark secrets," Dorian drawled. Halward gazed at the back of his son's head a moment, wondering if he knew something, then turned and stormed out. Kaim was already waiting by the door, he opened it for the magister and bowed low as the man glared at him the whole way out.  
  
Once clear he shut the door quietly, then floated back to Dorian's desk and waited patiently. After ensuring the sounds of his father had fully retreated he grinned and leaned on the top of the desk languidly.  
  
"You always put him in the best of moods," his grin widened at the mischievous expression on Dorian's face  
  
"It's my considerable wit and charm. Does it to everyone."  
  
"What will you do when the dreaded day he predicts comes to pass?" Kaim asked, chuckling.  
  
"Run screaming from Tevinter like a madman possessed. That is the day it will be confirmed my father practices blood magic, for that is the only way his prediction will come to fruition. No such person exists without flaw."  
  
After a moment's pause he let his head fall back so he could look up at his elf. "Except maybe _you_ ," he caveated with a grin.  
  
Kaim snorted. "Yes, a match I’m sure your father would wholeheartedly support,” Kaim said dryly. “I thought the infallible young Master Pavus was the only one without flaw?" he teased back.  
  
Dorian gave him a mock frown. "That is supposed to go without saying, you impudent elf. You're fired."  
  
"Then I suppose you can fetch your own meals, rub your own back, dress yourself, retrieve your own books, dance for yourself-"  
  
"You're hired again," Dorian laughed. "Although that last one," he tapped a finger on his lips as he considered, "I really would look fabulous in Rivaini dancer trousers with bangles."  
  
Kaim rolled his eyes. “You’re fabulous in just your small clothes, nevermind bangles.”  
  
Dorian threw his head back in laughter. “I really am, aren’t I?”  
  
“I’d let you borrow mine, but I highly doubt you could get the pants all the way up, it’s even doubtful the bangles would slip over your hands and feet,” Kaim muttered in good humor.  
  
“And the fat jokes just keep coming, why are you so mean to me?” Dorian slumped despairingly, his voice lilting in a whine.  
  
“Your ego is large enough, you don’t need me stroking it,” Kaim chuckled back.  
  
“I’ll give you something else you can stroke,” Dorian said seductively and waggled his eyebrows. Kaim arched a brow at him. “My _head_ , please, I have the _worst_ headache,” he whined and Kaim laughed.  
  
Kaim slid his butt up onto the desk, then scooted across it until he could lift his leg over Dorian's head, now sitting with his master between his knees. Graceful fingers raked through the short, black hair before massaging his scalp, starting at his hairline above his forehead and slowly working his way back, paying special attention to his temples.  
  
"I don't know what I would do without you and your _marvelous_ fingers," Dorian sighed, his head leaned back, eyes cracked open just enough to gaze longingly at the toned thighs on either side of him. While Kaim’s fingers worked their magic Dorian’s mind cast over the past few months. Their research had been disheartening. Tevinter was so steeped in slavery and corrupt politics that it seemed nothing short of tearing the whole damn thing down and rebuilding it would suffice. Just the purchase of one slave’s freedom was a mire of legislation, politics, and vying for the appropriate favor in the lower senate. If the wrong person sat in judgement your request could be stalled indefinitely, not to mention the months, even years it would take for the process normally.  
  
Dorian hated owning Kaim. In every moment of every day he balked at assigning Kaim tasks, letting him do mundane things like fetch his meals, treating him like he was a slave. But that’s what he was, wasn’t he? To treat him otherwise was to court disaster. As it was their relationship with one another was dangerous. They skirted discovery on a daily basis, as his father’s rude intrusion made obvious. Without Kaim’s superior hearing none of this facade would be possible. Was he being cruel? Letting Kaim in on a world he could never hope to join himself?  
  
More than once Dorian had caught himself thinking of Kaim as a boyfriend, not a slave, or even a servant. Half the things he asked Kaim to do he had the distinct feeling Kaim would wish to do regardless. But was Kaim doing it because he was trained to do so? Or did he go above and beyond, rubbing Dorian’s head as he did now. The back massage in the bath not so many weeks ago. Dorian had not asked that of him, Kaim had taken the initiative. Was it because he truly cared? Or was it ingrained training?  
  
Dorian wanted to believe it was because Kaim cared for him. Such thoughts were dangerous. Through the months he had carefully fostered a friendship with the elf, drawing him out of his slavery subdued self, allowing Kaim’s own personality to flourish, encouraging his interests even when they differed from his own, educating him, allowing him to form his own opinions, even having heated debates.  
  
It all seemed so pointless. Tevinter’s foundation was slavery itself. Without it the entire Imperium would crumble. All it took, however, was one look into Kaim’s eyes to know it would be worth it. He would tear down the entire Imperium if it meant freeing just one slave. If Kaim was worth it, that meant the rest of them were worth it too. How long had Kaim been a slave, previously unknown to him, hiding his precious soul, and all it took was a little care from Dorian to bring it to light. How many more stumbled in darkness? Downtrodden, beaten into nothing.  
  
Like Fenris. What was he like before Danarius emptied him to become his personal lyrium battery?  
  
What was this? Why had he become so attached to Kaim? To this elf? Before he met Kaim he’d sworn off relations. At the tender age of sixteen he’d already been betrayed and hurt so badly that even the thought of slaking physical desires wasn’t enough to draw him into another man’s bed.  
  
For the first time in his life he felt as though someone actually knew him, not the Pavus facade he put up every day. A mask that had protected a vulnerable side he’d allowed show only one other time and had been brutally shattered. Now, piece by piece Kaim appeared to be putting him back together again.  
  
\---  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any reason Dorian might need resistances to blood magic? Anyone? :p  
> Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you did and did not like! I can't improve my writing if no one tells me what I need to improve on!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for masturbation and slight voyeurism in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So describing dancing is really hard. I had my dancer friend help me a little with the descriptions but even he said it was hard to put into words. I base a lot of Kaim's dance off his, he's very energetic and athletic, mixing in a lot of tribal and Caribbean. It's extraordinary to watch. Not so much to write. I hope it came through okay.
> 
> Please let me know what you think and enjoy!

One evening Dorian sat on his bed, a book rest against his bent knees, papers strewn around him and he glanced up to consider Kaim as the lean elf crossed the room, tending to his duties. The young man really was relentless. Despite Dorian’s insistence he needn’t exert himself so much on his behalf he still played the part of the good slave. It was almost maddening at times.  
  
A thought occurred to him as his eyes rest on the trim figure, noting the way the fabric moved across his frame.  
  
“Kaim?” the elf’s head came up to consider him, “when last I asked you to dance, you changed into just the pants and the bangles without provocation. Was that because you felt I expected it? Or another reason?”  
  
Kaim smiled. “I cannot dance in this outfit.”  
  
Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”  
  
For a moment Kaim cocked his head, thinking how best to describe it. A grin split his features and instead he lifted his leg behind him, arching it up until he normally would have been able to grab it with a hand. Instead, the constricting fabric wound around his hip joint halted his movement just short of his reaching hand, the fabric of the shirt also hampered the flex of his shoulder, preventing him from being able to reach back far enough. The cloth was actually impeding his body’s ability to flex. When his eyes returned to Dorian he found the mage regarding him with glittering eyes.  
  
“Ah, I see. A shirt just gets in the way and the pants need to allow movement,” Dorian nodded in understanding.  
  
“The bangles were really just habit, but I find without music they enhance the experience for the audience,” Kaim lowered his leg back to a standing position.  
  
“Well, enhance my experience then,” Dorian chuckled, waving his hands dramatically, slight panic crossed his face as he almost dropped the book out of his lap.  
  
Kaim laughed. “Are you asking me to dance?” he asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“No, I’m asking you to get me a glass of wine,” he said sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course I’m _asking_ you to dance!”  
  
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over your sarcasm. Could you make that a demand, Ser _Altus_?” Kaim laughed as he deftly caught the book Dorian chucked at his head. He knew Dorian was freaking out over the test.  
  
“Get your elfy ass in there and change before I fire you again!” Dorian tried to sound stern, but his laughter ruined it. “And bring me back my book!”  
  
Kaim sauntered to the bedside and held it out with both hands, bowing grandly. Dorian snatched it back, pleased with Kaim’s large grin. “Insufferable elf!” he muttered. The grin just widened as Kaim turned and disappeared into his own room to change. A few minutes later Kaim reappeared, wearing the same black pants as before, bangles on his wrists and ankles, but as he exited the room he was tying his long hair up into a high ponytail.  
  
“I prefer it down,” Dorian commented, raising an eyebrow, appraising his appearance. Kaim had never pulled it up like that before and it greatly accentuated the sweep of his ears, his angular jaw, and the upward slant of his eyes. Maybe he _didn’t_ prefer it down after all.  
  
“If I leave it down I will not be able to see,” Kaim answered with a mischievous grin.  
  
“ _See_? What-?”  
  
Kaim interrupted him by immediately launching into a tumbling routine. He took two bounding steps then proceeded to cross the floor in a series of high speed walkovers, flips, handsprings, tucks, and somersaults. Upon reaching the center of the floor he stopped his forward momentum, but he continued flipping and somersaulting. His dance was much more acrobatic and energetic this time around, the movement never stopped, constantly reversing direction, spinning, kicking, arching. Now Dorian understood why he pulled his hair up. As it was the tail trailed his movement like a flowing raven colored streamer.  
  
A particularly long set of flips was ended when he landed on his shoulders, rolling his body and kick flipping to his feet. The moment the touched down he began to spin, his head snapped around continually to help maintain his balance, his arms gathered and thrown out as he spun, toes dancing across the floor creating spin inside spin, his hair lashed around him like a whip. The bangles chimed nonstop to his movements.  
  
One leg arched around and behind him, his back arched, arms over his head, using the movement of his supporting leg to spin himself around in place, the tail trailed his body’s movements. Unexpectedly his hands shot to the floor and his balance shifted, allowing his feet to leave the floor where they separated into a split. The spin never abated however, his hands continued the momentum, stepping hand over hand, his hips swiveled the opposite direction, carrying his legs, still in a split, in arcing motions up, down, and all around his body. Ceasing the spin with his hands he left only his right supporting his weight while  his left fell up by his side, his hips continued to swivel, his whole spine arching and flexing with the weight of his leg’s movements.  
  
Kaim’s other hand returned to the floor, his back arched, the spin stopped and his body bowed so his feet almost touched the floor behind him. Abruptly they snapped back around, using the momentum to immediately spring into a new set of tumbles, he managed an impressive series of reverse tucks that laid out into a back handspring before something happened that Dorian had never seen before.   
  
Kaim stumbled.  
  
“ _Venhedis_!” his arm flew out to the side to prevent from losing balance completely and falling over, but it was pretty obvious that wasn’t part of the dance.  
  
“Kaim-?” Dorian sat up slightly in worry, then practically leapt from his bed when Kaim put his other foot down and nearly stumbled again, pain flashed across his youthful elven features. Immediately Dorian crossed the room and was by his side.  
  
“Are you hurt? May I touch you?” his brows were knit together in worry and Kaim resisted the urge to push him away, favoring his right foot as every time he put it down he was met with shooting pain.  
  
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he insisted.  
  
"It's _not_ fine, you're hurt," Dorian knelt by his side and Kaim shied away, mortified, "may I touch you?" Dorian repeated.  
  
"No! I'm fine!" Kaim was blushing all the way up his ears and Dorian raised an annoyed brow at him, leaning his elbows on his knee casually as he looked up at the elf.  
  
"Oh, well if you're fine then go ahead back to your room and change."  
  
Kaim looked at him nervously, glanced at down at his foot, then at his door. "I, uh..." his foot touched the floor and he immediately winced, Dorian gave him a knowing look and he huffed, coloring more if possible, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout.  
  
"Fine!"  
  
Dorian gave him a triumphant smile then very tenderly took up his right foot, his hands glowed, feeling along his ankle then down the actual foot for damage.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
"It's my own fault. It was stupid of me to try it on a hard floor having not practiced in six months," he pouted more, then sucked his breath in a hiss when Dorian's fingers found what they sought.  
  
"You broke a bone in the top of your foot. It will be healed in a moment," Dorian's glowing hands worked over the damaged bone and a soothing coolness spread through Kaim's foot.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kaim grimaced more from embarrassment than pain.  
  
"Why are you sorry?" Dorian sounded genuinely confused.  
  
"You asked me to dance and I made an idiot of myself," Kaim's face and ears were still painfully red.  
  
"Do not be absurd. I cannot do even a fraction of the things you are capable of. So you pushed yourself a little too far, it happens."  
  
"Not to you," Kaim murmured.  
  
Dorian snorted. "Clearly you forget the times I've burned my own fingers on spells," a chuckle escaped him.  
  
Kaim laughed in return. "Point taken."  
  
Dorian's hands faded and he gently rotated Kaim's foot, then pressed lightly on the top of the arch. "Is there still pain?"  
  
Kaim shook head. "It is a little sore, but that will fade." Dorian let his foot down and he experimentally put weight on it, nodding when there was only a slight ache instead of shooting pain.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
“Do not thank me. You are out of practice because of me, therefore I am doubly responsible for your pain and injury-”  
  
“Absolutely not!”  
  
“So your meditations in the mornings and evenings aren’t enough to prevent injury of this sort?” Dorian ignored the little outburst with a smile.  
  
“They are…” he struggled for the words, “meant to keep the body limber, flexible, and to keep the mind in tune with the muscle. They are meant to be slow, relaxing, to enhance mental calm in preparation for the day and for taking rest at night. Not to harden the feet and hands against weight and impact against hard floors,” Kaim slid his foot along the beautiful stone that made up Dorian’s bedroom floor.  
  
“You usually dance on other surfaces?”  
  
“Depending on the situation. If wood floor is available it is better suited. Wood has more give in it than stone,” Kaim chuckled. “Obviously I _can_ still dance on stone. It simply requires more care and finesse than I currently possess,” Kaim lowered his brows again in embarrassment.  
  
Dorian snorted. “I do not believe such a thing exists.”  
  
“You should have seen the dancers who trained me,” Kaim laughed.  
  
“Well, that settles it then,” Dorian said grandly, turning and sauntering back toward his bed, leaving Kaim to watch him warily. “You will have time each night to practice dancing to your heart’s content.”  
  
“You cannot be serious! I do not think there is enough time in the day-”  
  
“Then we will _make_ time,” Dorian’s voice brooked no argument as he flopped back on the bed. “You busy yourself with a ridiculous amount of work that need not be done, or that I can do myself,” he held up a finger when Kaim made to argue. “Hush you, it is hardly a burden to me to watch you dance every night,” he grinned and an adorable flush spread across Kaim’s cheekbones.  
  
“It would be less dancing and more my flailing about in practice,” Kaim muttered.  
  
“ _Flail_ he says,” Dorian chuckled, “as if the word were even in your vocabulary.” Without thinking his eyes trailed Kaim’s form as the elf moved lightly toward him, his eyes followed the elegant chiseled lines of his pecs, down his abs, resting on the exposed hip bones, the pants formed a ‘V’ shape at the waist that dipped low under his belly button exposing quite a bit of the muscle crease under that ran into his pants.  
  
Kaim couldn’t help noticing where Dorian’s eyes currently rested and his abs flexed involuntarily in response, his eyes fell and he pretended to be adjusting the bangles on one wrist while Dorian snapped out of his dreamy examination of Kaim’s finer points. The elf’s mind raced, was that why Dorian hadn’t asked him to dance in so long? Was he attracted to Kaim? He _had_ made a rather large deal out of promising never to touch Kaim without permission and had held himself to it as though he were the one bound and not Kaim. Dorian had said he never forced himself on anyone and therefore would never be with him as a slave. Did Dorian not trust himself?  
  
“Out of curiosity,” Dorian said suddenly, clearing his throat, “you’ve mentioned your meditations are easier when you have more room. What is it exactly you do? Most meditations I’ve seen involve sitting cross legged and delving into mental exercises.”  
  
Kaim smiled and moved a few steps away, sat on the floor, removed the bangles and set them aside, then crossed his legs, eyes closed. Very slowly he took a few deep breaths, after the second breath he began to move. In time with each breath he moved one hand to the floor next to his hips, his fingers pointing backward, then the second. One by one he stretched his legs before himself, toes pointed. Still breathing deeply his muscles began to bunch until they flexed enough to lift his hips and legs from the floor, then very slowly he shifted his weight while lifting his hips upward, his legs bent toward his chest, still straight, folding himself in half. He continued lifting his hips up toward the ceiling, flexing his shoulders backward until his legs were parallel with the floor, still pressed against his chest.  
  
Dorian idly thought that was one of the most painful things he’d ever seen.  
  
Just as slowly the elf released the position, as he brought his legs down they parted, toes still pointed until his hips hovered over the floor again, his legs out in a side split, thighs in front of his backward facing hands. Carefully his weight shifted, never once stopping his slow movement, until all his weight rested on his left hand and he brought the right up over his head then down in front of his thigh. The motion was repeated with the left until both hands were in front of his hips, still off the floor.  
  
Each breath in and out maintained a steady rhythm.  
  
With hands braced firmly against the floor his weight shifted again, moving farther overtop his hands and past them, his legs moved back toward one another, closing the split. His weight continued shifting until his legs were straight behind him, as though standing, his hands holding his entire body parallel with the floor.  
  
Dorian marveled at just how strong the elf must actually be to maintain such a position.  
  
Knees bent slightly his weight began to shift again and his muscles trembled almost invisibly with the strain, his back arched as he used sheer strength to pull his feet backward over his head, his body moved slowly from parallel to perpendicular. The elf’s skin began to glisten softly with exertion. Once in a full handstand position his hands shifted once more and he lowered himself, positioning first his left then his right forearm against the floor until he was doing an elbow stand.  
  
Back flexed, his feet arched back over his head until his toes touched the floor before him.  
  
For the next few minutes Kaim continued moving slowly from impossible position to the next until finally he came back to the center to rest in the cross legged position once more and finally opened his eyes to find Dorian sitting in his bed still, staring at him oddly, one eyebrow raised.  
  
“And this is _relaxing_ for you?” he asked incredulously.  
  
Kaim laughed lightly. “Yes, I can usually fall asleep through anything after doing these,” true to his words Kaim actually did look rather like he’d fall asleep at any given moment.  
  
“To bed with you then,” Dorian chuckled, “if you fall asleep on the floor I imagine it would take more than some stretches to work out the pain in the morning.”  
  
Kaim chuckled and smoothly rose to his feet.  
  
“Oh Maker’s sake!” Dorian exclaimed when Kaim began moving about the room, extinguishing candles and putting things away. “Just go to bed, Kaim!”  
  
The elf threw him a defiant look over his shoulder before leaning to blow out the candles on Dorian’s desk. It was too much to resist adding a slight extra sway to his hips as he walked across the room, feeling his ponytail swish against his shoulders and upper back. Part of his training taught him exactly how to move his body to increase sex appeal without being obvious and he thought of this as righteous retribution for allowing Dorian to heal his foot.  
  
When he finally turned to bid Dorian goodnight he found the mage had leaned back against his mountain of pillows but interestingly noticed the blankets had been adjusted to cover his hips and a light flush dusted his cheekbones. Kaim resisted smiling triumphantly.  
  
Teasingly he bowed. “Goodnight, master.”  
  
“Goodnight, Kaim.”  
  
Once inside his room he quickly put away his bangles, then moved back to the door, almost pressing his ear to it. Long interminable minutes passed before his patience was rewarded by the almost inaudible sound of Dorian sliding from his bed and what sounded like his robe. Kaim waited until the soft footfalls were completely gone before opening his door silently and stealing out into the almost black room. Only the candle by Dorian’s bed was still lit.  
  
As a shadow he padded across the room quickly to the only place Dorian could have gone, the bath rooms. So as not to be discovered he leaned against the open door frame, listening to Dorian as he moved within. After a few moments it became obvious what the young mage was doing and Kaim flushed a little. Gathering his courage he finally peeked around the corner and was rewarded by the sight of his master, having not even bothered to go into the toilet stall, leaning his arm against the wall, his forehead against his forearm, robe parted, stroking himself with his free hand, his breathing ragged and husky.  
  
Kaim licked his lips as he watched Dorian’s hand pump up and down on his own erection, small wanting sounds escaped that gorgeous throat. Involuntarily Kaim’s hand went to the painfully hard bulge in his own pants, palming himself through the fabric, biting his lip to keep from making any sound.  
  
He knew he shouldn’t, but he lingered long enough to see Dorian’s body stiffen, a strangled sound spilled from his lips even as he spurt his passion into his palm. Not wishing to be caught Kaim quickly retreated, the sound of Dorian’s heavy breaths loud in his ears as he stole back across the room and shut himself in his own private quarters.  
  
The door was barely closed before Kaim’s pants hit the floor and his own erection lay hot and hard in his hand. Leaning back against the wood he pumped his hand, biting back any sounds, his head fell back, and he imagined those amazing mage hands on him, his soft lips, the feeling of his thighs around Dorian’s hips-  
  
The suddenness with which he came surprised even him and he worked hard to keep his heavy breaths quiet as he came into his waiting palm, his hips flexing forward.  
  
 _Oh gods, this was bad_ … Kaim let his head bump against the door in frustration.  
  
\---  
  
Six months before Dorian’s eighteenth birthday he took the aptitude test for _Altus_ , much earlier than most Tevinter nobles. Most usually didn’t even attempt until eighteen, but Dorian was not most nobles. What floored him most was his father had actually cautioned _against_ his attempting the test. Retests were allowed of course, after all _Altus_ was considered a noble title, however it was one earned due to magical aptitude, therefore _failing_ it the first time around left somewhat of a bitter stain on a family name.  
  
The Pavus family seated themselves in the observation area, along with several other noble families whose children were to be tested that day. Dorian was naturally the youngest. By quite a margin. As was his duty, Kaim stood back stage, a step behind and to Dorian’s right, holding his master’s cloak and anything additional he was needed for.   
  
Kaim was jittery with excitement. Normally this was not something he would have the pleasure of watching, but as Dorian’s personal manservant he was allowed to go where Dorian went, with the exception of the stage itself, only Dorian went out there.   
  
When his name was finally announced Dorian handed Kaim the tome he was failing at reading to help calm his nerves. Under the protective screen of the cloak he held, Kaim briefly grabbed Dorian’s palm and squeezed before letting him go. Outwardly nothing changed about Kaim’s face, but Dorian knew him well enough to recognize the way his eyes glittered and he gave Kaim a small, hopefully not nervous smile in return.   
  
The test was long and arduous, but naturally Dorian passed with flying colors.  
  
The congratulations of his father, that egotistic, beaming look on his father’s face, the cooing of his mother and her delighted patting of his shoulder and arm, none of that compared to the proud glittering eyes in Kaim’s otherwise expressionless face. Father hadn’t even wanted him to _take_ the test, but Kaim had helped him study. Had helped him practice. Had stayed up long into the night helping him with magical theory. The triumph was just as much Kaim’s as it was his own.  
  
Yet it was _Magister Halward_ standing beside him proudly while Kaim was shoved to the background.   
  
Discussions were held around him and he paid little mind. Of course a ball had to be planned in celebration. Magister Pavus’ son, _Altus_ at seventeen. How grand! Naturally a display must be performed. His son would be the envy of all, and as such all must see. Dorian realized belatedly this would only assist his father’s endeavors in finding him a potential wife and he resisted the urge to groan. Although it also meant he was allowed to be pickier about their failings.  
  
The excited chatter continued the entire way home with Dorian ignoring half of it.   
  
“My dear,” his mother sighed dramatically as she stepped down grandly from the carriage. “You could at least act a little more _enthusiastic_ about the entire affair. It is for _you_ , after all,” she rolled her eyes to gaze up at him languidly.   
  
“Apologies, mother. I am simply tired. The test was long and exhausting and I did take it earlier than most other nobles,” he reminded her.  
  
“Of course you did, dear. You are a _Pavus_ ,” she waved an elegant hand dismissively.  
  
“Of course,” he repeated quietly, following his parents inside, the elf behind him like a shadow.  
  
“I will have the servants make your favorite for dinner-” his mother was still prattling on.   
  
“Actually, mother, I am very tired. I will be taking food in my rooms tonight, if it pleases you both,” he bowed slightly at the waist to his parents.  
  
“Oh. Well, then. I suppose,” with that she sniffed lightly and wandered off.  
  
“You take food in your rooms quite a bit as of late,” his father commented, eyeing the elf who stood demurely behind his son.  
  
“And the fruit of that labor has been made evident tonight, father,” Dorian replied easily. “Perfection does not come naturally, else _you_ would have achieved it long ago,” he couldn’t help the snide tone of his voice as he turned and sauntered up the stairs.   
  
“Dorian-” his father’s voice simmered.   
  
“Have a good evening, father. Enjoy _my_ victory,” the young Pavus waved his hand grandly over his shoulder.  
  
The doors to his room finally closed securely behind the pair and Dorian immediately crossed to his desk and collapsed in his chair, allowing his head to fall back with an annoyed wail.  
  
“I could have been appointed _fucking Archon_ at age seventeen and I doubt they would have stirred from their glorious despair long enough to take notice of me! Only the accolades my accomplishment brings the family,” he hissed vehemently. “Not only that but father would have found _some_ fault in my performance,” he let his chin drop and rubbed his forehead with two fingers.  
  
“If they showered you with praise would it make you feel differently?” Kaim asked more rhetorically than for actual answer.  
  
“No, likely not,” Dorian sighed, picking up the book off his desk.  
  
“Master?”  
  
 “Dorian.”  
  
“I am aware of your name.”  
  
“Then what is it?”  
  
“Master.”  
  
“Ugh,” he threw his book at Kaim’s head.  
  
The elf caught it deftly with a laugh. “Congratulations on your appointment,” he beamed at the mage who grinned up at him.  
  
“I had quite a bit of help, actually. My _wit and charm_ carried me to victory,” he teased and Kaim bopped him on the head with the book once he reached Dorian’s desk.  
  
“Shall I order your dinner brought up?” Kaim sidled behind Dorian’s chair and tenderly massaged Dorian’s forehead and temples, smoothing the stress away with gentle fingertips.  
  
“Mmm...in an hour or so…” he leaned his head back against the chair and sighed. Within moments Dorian was sound asleep, as made evident by the deepening of  his breaths and the way his head lolled slightly with Kaim’s ministrations. For a few minutes Kaim continued to massage him, allowing his fingers to trail down the bridge of his nose, around his eyes sockets, up behind his ears, and along his jaw.   
  
With a soft smile he left him be and padded silently away to make preparations for the evening.   
  
\---  
  
The party was grand, massive, ornate, everything a celebration at the Pavus estate in Minrathous should be. The ballroom was packed with the elite of Tevinter, particularly the families who had children yet to make _Altus_. Preening was always a fault of the Pavus family.   
  
Oh, wait. No, everyone in Tevinter had that fault.  
  
It wasn't appropriate to have Kaim follow him around all evening, thus the elf was parked against the wall with the other slaves, within easy reach should Dorian require his services. His absence behind him was keenly felt however. As it was a party in his honor there was no escaping the endless tide of nobles hanging all over him.   
  
It was amazing how things had changed in just a little over a year. Before Kaim this party would have been the highlight of his year, now all he wanted was to curl up before the fire with Kaim next to him and their research material strewn around them. Deftly he dodged the lean, feminine arms that tried to curl around his neck.   
  
"My dear, this silk is genuine lyrium spider weave," the young Pavus sniffed, holding her wrists away from him as though tainted, then lovingly brushed the rich fabric.  
  
Dorian was in full splendor tonight, Kaim had carefully styled his hair and each strand held in place to perfection. The silk of his robes was so black it almost seemed to absorb the light, gold embroidery trimmed the edges and outlined the twisting snakes that wound their way over his shoulder and across his back, in honor of the Imperium. Gold jewelry adorned his brow, ears, neck, and fingers, and the silk under robe that peeked out his collar and layered asymmetrically with the outer robe was also gold.  
  
Kaim stood dutifully against the wall, his face was lowered, but he still observed the party's progress. There was no way he was jealous of all the people hanging all over his Dorian. No, nope. Not jealous. His gut twisted again as another female laid a hand on his master's arm to garner his attention.  
  
"Dorian!" a loud voice called over the din and Kaim's eyes shifted in time to witness one of the most gorgeous men the elf had ever seen dance his way up to his master and drape himself across his shoulders. His skin was a rich, dark chocolate color that had warm gold undertones, arching cheekbones swept down to a smooth jaw and slightly squared chin. The long nose curved elegantly down the bridge and swept out to his nostrils. Thick, voluminous hair was ornately braided and knotted at the back of his head, richly ornamented with gold and amber. The most attention grabbing feature however were his eyes, they were wide, large, and expressive, and also the most magnificent gold color Kaim had ever seen.   
  
Though he still didn't hold a candle to his Dorian.  
  
If Kaim had been jealous before, the familiar way the young man sidled up next to Dorian and leaned closer to his ear to whisper with a teasing smile dancing along his full lips certainly did it.  
  
"Rilienus," Dorian drawled comfortably back with a teasing smile of his own, "I hadn't realized they were allowing the whores in so early." The beautiful young man tossed his head back in a laugh that displayed his perfect white teeth.  
  
As the evening wore on Dorian became increasingly torn. Rilienus hadn’t left his side since his arrival.   
  
As grateful as he was for the charismatic young man’s level of deterrence for the young ladies vying for their attentions, he also had yet to remove his touch from Dorian. Wherever they went in the room, whoever they spoke to Rilienus maintained some sort of contact with Dorian: an arm through his, a hand at the small of his back, an arm around his shoulders, fingers trailing the skin of his bared arm.   
  
Frankly it was becoming suffocating. The Dorian of a year ago would have been ecstatic. Today’s Dorian wished the hands were Kaim’s.  
  
Dorian found a moment of escape when Rilienus’ father came to collect him, the magister wished to have his son speak with the family of his fiance.   
  
“Duty calls,” his honeyed voice rolled over Dorian and he winked before sashaying after his father. Before anyone else could come and claim his attention he turned and signaled to Kaim before slipping from the overcrowded ballroom. The small elf immediately and discretely slipped after his master, following demurely and silently the whole way to Dorian’s wing.  
  
“Bloody abyss!” Dorian cursed when the door was finally shut behind them securely. “This evening has been more trying than the test for _Altus_ was!” Kaim immediately brought Dorian a cold glass of water, which he drank gratefully, flopping gracelessly onto the bed, supported by his plethora of pillows. Immediately Kaim took up his comb and hair product and began fixing Dorian’s hair and tidying his robes, ensuring he was once again perfection once he returned to the ballroom.   
  
“It is your own fault,” Kaim chided him.  
  
“What?! How so?” Dorian’s voice held incredulity.   
  
“You are the one who insisted on _Altus_ early,” Kaim smiled.   
  
“Oh, then I suppose it’s my fault I’m magnificent then? Fine! I accept my glorious burden of purpose!” Dorian sniffed grandly and cocked his head back, striking a pose that had Kaim giggling. Suddenly Kaim stopped moving and cocked his head, then he leapt off the bed and stood demurely before Dorian, still holding the comb.   
  
When the door opened Dorian was shocked to find it was not his father, as had been expected.   
  
“I thought you might have been hiding here,” came Rilienus’ silky smooth voice.  
  
“Ah, not for long my friend. I just needed a respite, the ballroom had me peaked,” Dorian made a dramatic gesture and Kaim stepped away unnoticed, resuming a servant's place by the wall beside the door.   
  
Rilienus crossed the room in a few sauntering strides and Dorian eyed him warily, pushing himself up off the bed as though ready to flee. “This suits me just fine,” the darker skinned man purred, crawling up onto the bed beside Dorian.   
  
“We should probably-” his words were cut off when Rilienus languidly lay back against him, trapping him against the pillows and he stiffened slightly, his mind warring with his body. For so long he’d desired his friend, though he hadn’t thought Rilienus’ interests lay with men. Now, when his attentions belong to another...who happened to be watching from the other side of the room, does he make his interests known. Dorian grit his teeth in irritation.   
  
Oh the irony.  
  
“I am sure we could find more amenable pursuits here...as you said, a brief respite might be just what we need before returning to the ballroom,” Rilienus turned his head to gaze up at Dorian and the young Pavus almost lost  himself in those gorgeous eyes.  
  
“I can think of nothing here that might interest you terribly,” Dorian replied smoothly, deftly etching a bored expression on his features in the hopes Rilienus would take the hint.   
  
“Have your slave dance for us then,” Rilienus smiled coyly, leaned against the lighter skinned mage, looking perfectly at ease so close to Dorian. “I seem to recall he was the one at your father’s magisterial appointment banquet,” the gold eyes settled on his Kaim and an inexplicable wave of rage suddenly filled Dorian that he had to firmly tamp down, swallowing hard.   
  
Kaim stewed in his skin, but he remained where he was, standing by the door, eyes demurely lowered.   
  
“Kaim, has your foot sufficiently healed to allow you to dance tonight?”  
  
The tone in Dorian’s voice was easily recognizable, Dorian wanted him to say no. He didn’t want Kaim dancing for anyone but him. The lowly standing of a slave prevented him from being able to show his displeasure with Rilienus’ presence, but he could outright defy Dorian on this matter and the piss drunk little _kaffas_ wouldn’t know any better.   
  
But Dorian would.   
  
“It is, Master. Shall I change for you and your guest?” his eyes remained lowered, but out of his peripheral he swore he saw Dorian’s face turn a deeper shade of red.   
  
“Ugh, no. I am not in the mood to see you dance tonight,” Dorian affected a convincingly bored and somewhat disgusted manner, but inside he was fuming. What was Kaim thinking?! Dorian used the distraction to lean away from Rilienus who all but fell backward onto the bed without the support of Dorian’s body anymore.   
  
“Ah, so you use him for... _other_ purposes, then?” Rilienus asked slyly, eyeing Dorian.   
  
“What?! No!” Dorian answered a little too quickly and Kaim felt himself color, unable to stop the heat from settling in his cheeks.  
  
“Ah, but there are stories that circulate the other noble young men,” Rilienus insisted, sliding off the bed in pursuit of Dorian, “rather delicious ones about you.”  
  
Dorian’s throat constricted a little and he moved to his desk as though seeking protection.  
  
“I know not of what you speak,” Dorian snapped. The few times he’d lain with other men had ended in heartbreak and in betrayal. Once he would have gladly taken Rilienus to his bed. Now? The thought was almost repulsive. Kaim was the only one he wanted. _Maker_ , the fucking irony.  
  
“Whatever you have heard is wrong,” Dorian insisted, backing up as Rilienus rounded the desk. “And I would never sleep with a _slave_ ,” the way his master said it almost made Kaim cringe, shocking himself even as he blinked back hot tears of anger. Kaim knew what he was, he was no fool, but it still hurt immensely to hear it fall from Dorian’s lips so.  
  
“Why would you? When there are such loftier, more enticing offerings to be had?” the other young man reached for Dorian.  
  
“Come, Rilienus, let us return to the ballroom. I think we are in need of more wine,” Dorian said quickly, by way of distraction.  
  
“Perhaps they were indeed wrong about you,” Rilienus pouted, but linked arms with Dorian as they headed for the door.  
  
“Stay here,” Dorian ordered Kaim when he turned to follow him. The wide eyed look Kaim gave him almost made him take it back, but instead he turned and ignored him, allowing the door to close on the stricken elf’s face.  
  
Hours later Dorian finally returned to his room, smelling strongly of wine, a deep glower instilled on his features.  
  
“What the _hell_ was that, Kaim?” he immediately shouted on entering his quarters, casting about for the elf until he found him sitting by the bookshelf on the floor. Why was he on the floor? As elegantly as ever Kaim replaced the book he was holding on the shelf and smoothly rose to his feet.  
  
“To what are you referring, Master,” Kaim asked, the little hint of attitude only seemed to spur the flames of Dorian’s anger.  
  
“Are you just daft?! Or did you do it on purpose?!” he yelled.  
  
“What do you _think_?” Kaim snapped back. He knew he had no right to act the way he was, but it hardly mattered to him at the moment.  
  
“How could you do that?! _Obviously_ you understood the fact that I was asking you to reply negatively! Yet you tried to usurp me!”  
  
“He was overstepping boundaries! You were obviously uncomfortable! I was trying to help!” Kaim’s cheeks were almost as flush as Dorian’s alcohol tinged ones.  
  
“By defying my implied command?!”  
  
That set Kaim back on his heels. The world came to a sudden halt and Kaim’s worst fear seemed realized. This dream, the illusion he’d been allowed of opinion, free will, and personality at last revealed as the lie it truly was. He was still a slave, meant to obey commands, perhaps he'd misinterpreted Dorian's treatment of him. “Apologies, I overstepped then when I took you at your word and thought us friends,” he took a step back from Dorian, dropping his gaze to the floor and completely missed the stunned look on Dorian’s features. “If you had let me dance his attention would have left you and been centered on me instead,” Kaim said quietly. “I forgot my place and will not make such assumptions again in the future, Master.”  
  
“Kaim-” his elf had been trying to protect him. Oh, how had he not seen this before?  
  
“Is there anything else you needed tonight, Master?” Kaim asked smoothly, barely able to keep the tremble from his voice, his eyes still on the floor, hands folded properly at his lower back. It was a position Dorian hadn’t seen Kaim use when speaking to him for a very long time and it twisted his gut as though stabbed. All his hard work over the past year in helping Kaim remember the beautiful person trapped inside him appeared about to shatter and Dorian panicked.  
  
When an answer wasn’t immediately forthcoming Kaim turned to leave.   
  
“Yes, DAMNIT!” Dorian suddenly snapped and moved in front of Kaim, gazing down at his bent head. “I need you to stay right where you are and listen to me!”  
  
“Why? You made yourself abundantly clear,” Kaim said quietly.  
  
“Kaim, may I touch you?” Dorian asked peevishly.  
  
“No.”  
  
The answer surprised Dorian. “May I touch you?” he repeated a little more forcefully.   
  
“No.” came the same defiant answer.   
  
“Damnit, Kaim! LET. ME. TOUCH. YOU.” Dorian knew he was still slightly drunk, but he couldn’t let this go.  
  
“No,” Kaim lifted his chin, finally looking up at Dorian with burning eyes. “Why should I?”  
  
“Fine, fuck it!” before Kaim could react Dorian swept him up in a hug, pulling him firmly against his chest with the top of his head tucked under his chin, his ear against his pec where he could hear his hammering heartbeat, arms wound around his back to keep him in place, one hand against the back of his head. “I’m breaking my oath this once,” Dorian grit through clenched teeth.   
  
“Master, what-?!” Kaim stiffened and made as if to pull away.   
  
“ _Festis bei umo canavarum_! Just shut up and listen!” Dorian snapped and Kaim immediately fell silent, though he remained standing against Dorian, stiff as a board. “I may be an _ass_ , but I’m not that big of an ass! There is no way in the abyss or in Thedas that I would let you take his attention instead of me. I can fight off his advances. _You_ , not so much. If you had danced for him and he decided he wanted to lay with you I would have been hard pressed to come up with an excuse to refuse him. It might have compromised my ability to hide our friendship.”  
  
Kaim relaxed only slightly. That thought hadn’t really occurred to him. He’d been so focused on Dorian’s plight.  
  
“I thought you were just being difficult. I had not realized you were trying to help me,” his fingers lightly stroked that beautiful ebony hair and he felt Kaim relax a little bit more. “Your friendship _is_ extraordinarily important to me, as is protecting you. Had he touched you...I would probably have been taken away for murder tonight instead of standing here arguing with you.”  
  
“Master, don’t ever-” Kaim pulled back slightly, looking up at Dorian.  
  
“Shh, I can just bring him back anyways,” Dorian teased and Kaim gave him a deadpan look before banging his forehead against Dorian’s chest, unable to believe the mage had even said it. Delighted Dorian threw his head back in laughter, his arms inadvertently tightening around Kaim slightly.  
  
“You touched me without permission,” Kaim accused with a smile, the words slightly muffled against his robes, pleased when Dorian’s laughter stopped and he looked down at the head against his chest.  
  
“Well you were being a little pissant,” Dorian retorted haughtily.   
  
“I was _what_?!” Kaim pushed back from his chest with both hands, his jaw hanging open slightly, then narrowed his eyes at the pleased look on Dorian’s face, the mage’s arms still held the elf trapped against him.  
  
“That fiery little attitude I love so much almost _did_ burn down the house, as you’d threatened,” Dorian laughed. “You needn’t have worried about me, Rilienus can be an ass, but I am capable of taking care of myself."  
  
"No, you're not," Kaim rolled his eyes, "admit it, you'd be lost without me."  
  
"I would..." something about the way Dorian said it brought Kaim's eyes back to his face. "I am..." almost imperceptibly Dorian leaned closer and for one heart stopping moment Kaim thought he might kiss him. The elf's pulse shot through the roof, heat settled in his cheeks, his breath hitched, and his lips parted slightly.  
  
They hung there suspended in the moment, both their eyes glittering with emotion they were terrified to admit.   
  
Then, as quickly as it started it was gone. Dorian's warm arms released him and he stepped back, rubbing his face with one hand.   
  
"I am...still a little drunk. I think...I should go to bed," he murmured, though obviously his thoughts were elsewhere.  
  
In comfortable though emotionally charged silence Kaim helped him change, they moved through the motions with habitual familiarity, both disappointed and giddy at the same time.  
  
Long after Kaim had extinguished the lights, excused himself for bed, then come and gone from the bathing rooms after his meditations Dorian still lay completely awake, staring at the ceiling.   
  
He had almost kissed Kaim tonight. It had been so close. Kaim was right there in his arms, warm body pressed against his, seemingly perfectly content in the circle his arms provided. It even seemed like Kaim had responded in kind when Dorian had caught himself leaning forward. Dorian covered his eyes with his arm and bit back a groan. The way Kaim had looked up at him, those beautiful eyes glittering like jewels, that light pink dusting across his cheekbones, lips slightly moist and parted. Had he been imagining it? Or had Kaim’s breath really hitched?  
  
Dorian rubbed his face with both hands then let them collapse to the side and glared up at the shadows dancing across ceiling. This was no way to act, Kaim was his to protect from exactly this sort of behavior. It didn’t matter if it seemed like Kaim might actually reciprocate.   
  
_Kaim might actually reciprocate._   
  
A tormented sigh escaped him and he resigned himself to a long night of mental torture.   
  
\---  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Ganumedes](http://ganumedes.tumblr.com/) did some fantastic fanart of Kaim! You can find it [here](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/114599980315/selydra-ganumedes-kaim-of-the-serpent-and-the)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there might be slightly triggering content in this chapter. It is the large amount of text that is italicized.
> 
> Please keep in mind as you read sections of this chapter that I'm not a physics major, heck I barely know anything about it. I did a lot of reading and theory crafting and mashing with Dragon Age lore to try and get some of these scenes to even make any sense, so please be gentle! If you happen to know more about this stuff and can correct or offer suggestions then I might edit the chapter and add them (and credit you of course).
> 
> On another note please, I'm trying to improve my writing. If you're too shy to leave constructive criticism here then you can leave it anonymously on my tumblr page: http://selydra.tumblr.com/  
> I appreciate each and every comment I get!

As an _Altus_ Dorian was the envy of his peers, he also could potentially have ended his tutelage with Alexius. However Dorian was not done learning, despite his complaints he truly was thirsty for knowledge, there was also the added bonus of working on some new project _with_ Alexius. The magister said he would explain at a later time once he'd gathered his research.  
  
The young Pavus' eighteenth birthday was close at hand and he found himself dreading it. A sudden thought occurred to him.  
  
"When exactly is your birthday, Kaim?" he asked, looking up from his book as the elf snapped his feet from his handstand into a back tuck.  
  
"I'm not sure precisely," he stepped back into the handstand then looked over at Dorian, upside down. "I'm pretty sure I know the month and year, but not the day." Returning his attention his feet snapped down again and he bounded through a back tuck then laid out into a back handspring.  
  
If he thought he could get away with it Dorian would make Kaim wear that outfit all day every day, he leaned his chin his knuckles, attempting to appear contemplative and not like he was leering.  
  
"You could choose the day you wanted then," he watched Kaim come back to center then performed a standing back tuck, bounding up immediately into a front tuck, and right into one more back tuck. When he landed he shook his feet out, wincing a little.  
  
"I could, but it holds no bearing over my thoughts," he glanced over at Dorian, his high ponytail swished with each movement. Gracefully he took two steps then performed a hands free cartwheel into a front handspring, ending in a front tuck.  
  
"Why is that?" Dorian gazed at him curiously. Birthdays were important everyone, or so he thought.  
  
Kaim shrugged elegantly. "It is...an unimportant fact of life...slaves don't care much about the passage of time, nor do we usually celebrate the day. An older slave is not necessarily a good thing," he performed the series of three standing tucks again, once complete he bounded in place a few times, leaping high into splits, letting his feet impact the floor, albeit silently.  
  
"I had not considered it in that light," Dorian looked thoughtful. "Would you care to celebrate yours?" he asked.  
  
"I could barely abide the attention of you healing my foot," Kaim paused his movements, rolling his eyes as he shook out feet, "why in Thedas would you think I would desire a fuss over ageing?"  
  
"Well...eighteen is an important age to nobles, though I see your point," he fiddled with his quill.  
  
Kaim moved to one end of the floor space then walked into a handstand. Slowly he arched until his feet almost touched the floor behind him. Abruptly they snapped to the floor and he began the tumble routine that broke his foot only a few weeks ago. Kaim performed the reverse tucks perfectly, stepped immediately into the back handspring, snapped the reverse into a front handspring, then finally laid out and finished with a tuck. What wasn't so elegant was the way he limped after sticking his landing, a soft hiss escaped him and he bent slightly, rubbing the sole of one foot with his thumb.  
  
"Why do you continually attempt it if it is so difficult?" Dorian asked, leaning back in his chair, admittedly it was exceedingly impressive to watch.  
  
"It is a matter of pride at this point," Kaim grumbled. As a reward to himself for actually completing the set without breaking anything he stepped into a rather frivolous and artistic dance that allowed him to roll around on the ground quite a bit with lots of splits, rolls, handstands, and contortionist moves.  
  
"You actually truly enjoy all this, don't you?" Dorian asked after watching Kaim for a few minutes, just absorbing the serene expression on his features and the easy graceful way he moved.  
  
"I do. You enjoy casting magic, yes?" the question brought Dorian up short.  
  
"Well, yes..."  
  
"You're trained extensively in its use, but you take pleasure in execution and pride in accomplishment. It is the same. My body has been trained for this from a young age," he never stopped moving, his body arched off the floor as he rolled, his legs lunged past the handstand position and into another split. "It is...fulfilling."  
  
Suddenly he paused, then glanced at the door. "Steps approach," he said quietly and smoothly launched into a more elegant and traditional form of dance just as the doors burst open, heralding his father's arrival.  
  
Magister Halward drew up short at the sight of Kaim taking up a large portion of central floor space with dance.  
  
Dorian raised a brow at his father's odd expression. "He was dancing when I first noticed him, father."  
  
Halward shook his head and circumvented the dancing elf to approach Dorian's desk. "You continue your studies with Alexius despite your new rank?" he asked his son.  
  
"Yes, Alexius actually has a study project he would like my assistance with," Dorian fingered his quill, studying his father over it.  
  
"A commendable pursuit. If you had not continued with Alexius I had another magister who was willing to partner with you," Halward's attention was drawn back to the elf as he performed a long set of complex footwork.  
  
"Rivain," he said abruptly. Dorian looked up at him curiously. "That's where I've seen dancers as skilled," his voice sounded far off and for a moment Dorian caught a glimpse of the father he so missed. Then he snapped out of it and grew stern once more. "Make sure you are not too distracted," he snapped as he crossed the room toward the door.  
  
"Of course, father," Dorian rolled his eyes and made a face at the door as it closed.  
  
"Rivain," Kaim repeated and Dorian found he had collapsed to a sitting position, legs crossed, one elbow on his knee, hand propped on his other knee, leaning his chin on his palm in contemplation. "That's where I was instructed in dance, but I have no memory of much prior to that," he lay on his back and extended his legs straight up, flexed his hips and abs, rolled backward into a handstand and stepped out.  
  
"You have no recollection of where you're originally from?" Dorian's voice was sad.  
  
Kaim shrugged. "Not really. My earliest memories are the dance school. I am unsure if I was a slave then or not...but I do not believe so. I was sold to a Tevinter master at ten. So, perhaps I was born in Rivain? It doesn't really matter," he adjusted the waistband of his pants and Dorian studied him shrewdly.  
  
"You don't care that you may still have parents or brothers and sisters out there?" he watched Kaim carefully.  
  
"And if I found them? I wouldn't know them from any other stranger. The dance troupe and you are the closest I've had to family," he wouldn't look up at Dorian, but a light pink flush dusted his cheeks and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in Dorian's chest. That was about the sweetest expression he'd ever heard.  
  
"Families aren't all they're cracked up to be anyways," Dorian studied the book on his desk with much more concentration than was warranted and missed Kaim's affectionate smile as the elf finally gazed at him.  
  
\---  
  
_Torchlight stung his eyes as he was bodily dragged through the stone corridors. Trembling in fear he let out a plaintive cry when his hair was yanked painfully again, tears pricked his eyes and he fought them back. Why were they doing this? What had he done? He thought he’d obeyed every command to the letter, why were they hurting him? Where were they taking him?_  
  
_The hands on his arms were rough and they dragged him through a door at the end of the echoing corridor. Breath was forced out of him in a whoosh when they all but slammed him down on a hard bed, face first. When rough rope cinched tight around his wrists he began to struggle harder in panic, his breath came in gasping sobs, but his stature was too small to be of any use against the burly men who held him fast as they first bound his hands, then his feet, tying each to the bedposts. Another rough rope was lashed about his neck and he whimpered._  
  
_The two men retreated and the room fell to silence, save the harshness of his breaths and the soft sound of his whimpers. He startled with a jump when the door banged open, then just as loudly closed again, his face pressed into the bed, petrified in fear, unable to turn his head enough to see who had entered. Steps harsh against stone grated loudly through the room as the newcomer came around the side of the bed. Robes of fine quality swished into his line of vision and he stared, wide eyed as the figure finally bent and he could see their face._  
  
_Though it was no boon._  
  
_If a face could be described as ‘cruel’ this man’s portrait would be placed next to the textbook definition. Every part of his visage was angled and pointed, he was older, with slightly grey peppered dark hair, a beard that looked as though it was normally trimmed, though now scruff had begun to grow in around it coated his angled chin. A deep scar broke the line of his nose, though it looked old and well healed. But those light blue eyes were cold, unfeeling, piercing, and they delved into his very soul to rip the secrets from him. Secrets he hadn’t known he possessed._  
  
_“Do you know who I am?” came the gravelly, hissing voice._  
  
_Kaim shook his head with a whimper._  
  
_“I am the magister recalcitrant slaves are sent to when they misbehave, or have fiery little attitudes that need to be extinguished,” his smile was the most terrifying thing Kaim had ever seen and he whimpered again. “Now,” the rope around his neck yanked painfully and he yelped when the bite into his sensitive skin burned, “silence is what is expected of you. A slave is silent unless bid to create noise from your worthless mouth. And the pain will continue until you have learned this lesson.”_  
  
_Kaim cried in panic, struggling for all he was worth as a knife was used to cut away his pants and smallclothes, heedless of the skin that might have been cut in the process. The small elf’s pleas fell on deaf ears as his hips were seized by rough, bruising hands and suddenly his world exploded in searing, white hot pain._  
  
_He screamed._  
  
Kaim shot upright in his bed, coated in sweat, bile immediately filled his throat. Heedless of the time of night, or of anything else in the world around him that slowly faded from nightmare into reality, he bolted from his room and literally sprinted across the space of floor to the bathing rooms. There he collapsed over the toilet and immediately wretched, purging the entire contents of his stomach.  
  
For an unknown amount of time he heaved, his whole body shook, gagging at the sensations the dream had renewed in his mind, tears streamed from his eyes to join the acid he was currently coughing up, as his stomach contained no more to expel. Gentle hands scooped his hair back from his face and neck, careful not to touch him at all and Kaim’s eyes shut in mortification. He’d hoped his exodus to the bathing rooms hadn’t awoken his master.  
  
“May I?” Dorian’s voice was so soft and caring, it melted him through to his core and he nodded weakly, coughing on the thickness of the saliva and stomach acid caught in his throat. His hair was twisted so it would stay back from his face and be held in one hand while the other tenderly rubbed his sweaty back in reassuring circles. Once Kaim’s convulsions subsided and he was once more in command of his body he cleared the basin and slouched back onto the floor in a sitting position, head down and his eyes closed, wishing Dorian would go away and spare him the discomfiture.  
  
“Here,” Kaim opened his eyes to find a glass of water in his field of vision and realized he hadn’t even noticed the bigger man leave his side to retrieve it for him. Gratefully he accepted it and rinsed his mouth, that too was spit into the basin before he set it aside and pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them and burying his face in his arms to hide his flaming cheeks.  
  
“Stop,” Dorian needed to quit using that infernally agreeable tone of voice, the mage very gently unwound his arms from around his legs and turned the elf to face him. One hand cupped the side of his sweat moist face and tipped him up slightly so he could see Kaim’s features. He was sweaty and disgusting, why did Dorian insist on touching him?  
  
“You promised to tell me,” Dorian reminded him and Kaim felt his heart hammering so hard in his chest he thought it might break his ribcage.  
  
“I didn’t get the chance to,” Kaim muttered unhelpfully.  
  
“Kaim-”  
  
“Please don’t make me tell you,” Kaim begged in a whisper, his eyes closed and his eyebrows knit up into such an expression of pain and despair that Dorian almost wept for him. “Please…” it was too much, Dorian wrapped his arms around Kaim and pulled him close, allowing the elf to curl into him and bury his face against his shoulder, the young Pavus could feel the hot tears running down his chest and he soothingly rubbed Kaim’s back, ensuring he didn’t hold him in any way that would make him feel trapped.  
  
This was his shame, something he never wanted anyone to know. The loss of his innocence, the pain, the self-loathing, the immense hatred he felt for the man who had taken everything from him. At the tender age of twelve he was taught just how cruel the world could actually be, and he hated himself.  
  
Each time his body had been used he had grown a little colder inside, a little more desolate. The magister had done his job. When he was finished with Kaim the boy was well and truly broken, a shattered remnant of the sprightly, colorful child, leaving behind a jaded and grey young man. It was why dance meant so much to him. For those brief, beautiful moments all his pain melted away and color once more filtered through the grey. But those moments ended all too soon, and again the darkness would descend.  
  
Only upon meeting Dorian had color begun to once more saturate his life, filling it with a vibrancy he’d long forgotten. For the first time in six years he felt like he could truly breathe again, and it was all thanks to the master he was currently clinging to.  
  
In embarrassment Kaim pulled back, wiping harshly at his eyes. “I’m sorry-”  
  
“Oh shut up, and stop that,” Dorian chided him, removing his hands and using his own thumbs to gently dry the tears from Kaim’s face, only further embarrassing the boy. When Kaim sat back on his heels Dorian’s hands trailed down to the elf’s hands, currently resting on his thighs, where he began to massage the tendons in his wrists, directly above the light, whitish scar marks. The mage knew once he broke contact with Kaim that his oath would settle back into place and he wanted to relish these moments while he had them.  
  
“Master, I-I…”  
  
Dorian sighed. “What will it take to get you to call me by name?” he teased lightly in attempt to raise the elf’s spirits.  
  
It appeared to have had effect because Kaim chuckled very softly. “An act of _Dumat_ himself,” he shot back.  
  
“A god? Be right back, I need to go storm the Golden City-” Dorian made as if to rise and Kaim grabbed his bicep, laughing gently, pleasing the bigger man immensely. Even though he knew Dorian was joking, it still warmed his chest that he offered to break open the gates of the Golden City itself just to get Kaim to use his first name.  
  
But Kaim was selfish, he only used Dorian’s name when he was alone in his bed, imagining what it would be like to join with that amazing mage’s body. That only brought back the darker images from earlier and Kaim shivered again, eyes lowered once more.  
  
“Master...those dreams...they’re-”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me,” Dorian interrupted him, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. He thought he had a pretty good idea the images they contained regardless.  
  
“There was a magister,” Kaim continued softly, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of his knees, “that slaves were sent to when they were disobedient, or had attitudes that needed to be broken. I was the latter,” he paused, swallowing hard.  
  
“I-...” Dorian glared off to the side. “Do you remember his name?”  
  
“Would it matter?” his words were so soft and broken sounding that Dorian actually winced.  
  
A sigh tore from him. “I guess I can’t protect you anymore if I am made tranquil or executed for murdering a magister, so I suppose I should say ‘no’.”  
  
Despite it all Kaim snorted. “You have the right of it. So let us leave it be. You asked me to tell you about these things so…” he took a deep breath and looked straight at Dorian. “Master, I had a nightmare.”  
  
“You smug little _kaffas_ ,” Dorian laughed and Kaim grinned back, filling Dorian’s chest with warmth at the return of a happier expression on his elf’s features.  
  
\---  
  
“I believe I have collected enough of a basis for us to begin our investigations in my new line of research,” Alexius told Dorian without preamble when he casually entered his study, Kaim trailing behind him.  
  
“Indeed? Pray tell. I’m positively bursting with curiosity,” Dorian drawled with an excited smile.  
  
Alexius turned to him with an equally eager smile. “Time.”  
  
“Time?” Dorian’s grey eyes flew wide and he leaned back against the study table, arms crossed his chest and considered his patron. “As in the stopping of? Or movement forward? Backward?”  
  
“Any and all. To be honest it is such an under researched field that I will not be picky with our accomplishments,” Alexius grinned like a schoolboy as he turned and collected a rather small pile of books and parchments from his desk and laid them on the surface beside Dorian.  
  
“Time is the degradation or movement of matter on a linear scale, or some conventional wisdom would hold,” Dorian commented, sifting through the meager offering of tomes. “There has never been a successful way to separate one from the other. Especially backward, though I’ve seen some interesting theories on movement forward in time. A removal of an object from the timetable and freezing it within the world so to speak.”  
  
Alexius nodded. “The theory states that stopping one or the other would accomplish such goals. To exert opposing force would be to slow or stop time entirely. To exert parallel force would be to speed up time if one were to look at them as possessing physical properties capable of manipulation.”  
  
“Matter and time, or the movement of matter through space, do not move independently of one another, they move in tandem, thus creating the illusion of past, present, and future. To stop one and let the other advance risks tearing a hole in the very fabric of spacetime itself,” Dorian stated warily, paging through a very interesting diagram of magical theory.  
  
“Indeed. However I believe it would be easier to move time forward than backward. Going backward would risk tearing it more as I fear the force required to not only stop one but reverse it would be immensely dangerous,” Alexius crossed his hands behind his back.  
  
“That would be true only if we do indeed assume that time is its own entity that can be manipulated. Other theories suggest time is part of a fundamental intellectual structure within which we sequence and compare events, that it is neither an event nor a thing, and thus is not itself measurable nor can it be travelled,” Dorian argued, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger, resting his elbow on the arm hugging his abdomen.  
  
"For the sake of argument we will be assuming the first theory," Alexius smiled, "otherwise we've defeated ourselves before we've begun."  
  
"Indeed, I merely mention it as a possibility. Such a thing may never have been accomplished because it cannot be done," Dorian commented, waving his hand languidly.  
  
For the next few grueling hours they battered physical and magical theory, cast a few experimental spells, and generally beat their heads against the wall.  
  
"Are we looking at this wrong? Viewing time in the material world? The fade is a magical echo of the material world, yes?" Dorian questioned slowly, still pacing back and forth, holding a book before his nose. Kaim was sure he was going to run into something.  
  
Alexius' head came up, already beginning to formulate thoughts along those lines. "Yes...Yes, you're right! The fade is like a magical time stamp! A record of things past and an echo of the current material world," Alexius' voice grew in volume as his excitement mounted.  
  
"Therefore wouldn’t piggybacking on the magical connection to the echoes of past events be the way to access the past? To travel backward in time?" Dorian finally looked up from his tome when he clipped his hip on the edge of the study table, drawing an annoyed sound from him and Kaim bit back a smile.  
  
"Yes! It would be the perfect way to solve the problem of the traveler! Removing them from the time stream entirely and into the fade is perfect!" Alexius made frantic scribbling in their note pages with a feathered quill.  
  
"Now to solve the problem of traveling into the fade in physical form rather than dreams, let alone finding the correct echo," Dorian drawled, rubbing his hip in annoyance. That hurt.  
  
"Moving forward then is simple, all it requires is a stasis field around the traveler in the fade. Time marches on with them removed, then the spell ends at the appropriate time and viola, time travel forward," Alexius muttered, continuing to write.  
  
"Oh? Is that all?" Dorian laughed and Alexius made a particularly juvenile face at Dorian and the Pavus laughed again. "Going backward would like threading one particular needle in a sea of needles. If you choose the incorrect echo you may not end up where you intended," Dorian said more seriously. "Not every echo is an accurate recounting of the event."  
  
"Indeed, let us first focus then on even accessing the fade at all," Alexius glanced up, staring off into space as he considered the puzzle.  
  
It was growing on evening when Dorian finally looked up from the book he was buried in, squinting to adjust his eyes to the darkened room after so long of staring at tiny, tightly packed words.  
  
"What if..." he rubbed his face with his palm, "what if we use some kind of anchor? An enchanted object for the traveler to hold onto that would allow safe passage through the veil, something to pull them through. You realize what we're trying to do hasn't been done since-"  
  
"You cannot compare the two!" Alexius snapped a little. "But your idea of an anchor...now there's something. An amulet perhaps. And we wouldn't so much be breaking into the fade as traveling or allowing the amulet to drag the user through it."  
  
"Going on the analogy earlier of threading a needle...The amulet would be used as the anchor, or thread for that needle. It would need to be enchanted to transcend spacetime and protect the user from being torn apart by time travel through the fade. Simple, yes?" Dorian and Alexius both laughed.  
  
"I think we have made enough progress for today. Let us reconvene tomorrow and we will continue our research," Alexius was nearly brimming with excitement and Dorian found it difficult not to become swept up in the energy.  
  
"Tomorrow then," he bowed with a smile, gestured to Kaim, and they both took their leave.  
  
\---  
  
Weeks later they still hadn’t solved the problem of enchanting the amulet to allow the user to pass safely through the fade in search of the echoes they sought.  
  
“I think my brain is going to melt if we work on this time theory problem any more for a few days,” Dorian complained, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows with two tapered fingers, the frustration clear on his features.  
  
“Indeed. I think a break has been earned,” Alexius agreed, slumping back in his large armchair.  
  
For long hours instead they sat before the fire and discussed the imperium itself, the crumbling and corrupt state of politics, and to Dorian's surprise he even agreed about slavery needing to be reevaluated. Though he did voice his concerns about it. Such reform would not happen without great cost to the imperium. The entire political structure would need to be torn down and rebuilt. Without the correct men to do so you risked creating worse problems than before.  
  
Later that night Dorian was studying late in his library and Alexius came sauntering down the stairs intent on telling the Pavus boy to pack up for the night and return the next day with a fresh mind. Concealed in the darkness of the doorway he stopped a moment to consider the sight before him.  
  
Dorian sat perched at one of the large study tables in his library, books and papers were strewn all about him, but the interesting part was his slave was no longer posted against the wall. The young elf stood by his side and the two of them spoke quietly to one another, their body language spoke of a much more intimate relationship than just master to slave, but how intimate was unclear. There was nothing romantic about the situation, per se. Dorian would speak, the elf would reply and use one delicate hand to indicate a portion of text and the mage would give rebuttal.  
  
The words were too soft to hear from this distance, but as Dorian appeared to be conversing with the elf seriously, it would indicate an education level that surpassed that of most of Alexius’ servants, save the ones who maintained his library, but even they were incapable of debating magical theorem. And the books spread before the two men were indeed complicated magical tomes, one of which he recognized as research material he and Dorian had been studying in their endeavor to get time magic to work properly.  
  
Dorian must have spent extensive time and effort on his slave, if not personally then through a tutor, to educate him to the level of a peer. The Pavus boy was no slouch intellectually, it was why he was chosen as his research partner, and this slave, this elf, appeared capable of conversing on equally complex content.  
  
Their earlier conversions about slaves and dissolving slavery in the imperium now began to take on a little more of a personal hue. The slave clearly meant quite a bit to Dorian. No one poured that kind of effort into a simple resource, and he couldn't help wondering once again at the two men's relationship. He'd be a liar if he denied having heard the rumors circulating about the young noble. Thus far he had managed to remain under too much indiscrete notice.  
  
For his sake, Alexius hoped he continued to do so and did not do anything foolish with his slave.  
  
\---  
  
“Alexius was attempting to murder me today!” Dorian wailed on entering his rooms. Even though he was almost to turn nineteen he still acted suspiciously like a child at times.  
  
“He was not. You won’t get any better if he doesn’t push you to your limits,” Kaim chuckled, setting down his burden of books on Dorian’s desk.  
  
“You’re supposed to support me and sympathize with me! Not continue Alexius’ torment even after the lesson!” Dorian complained, giving him an annoyed yet amused eyebrow.  
  
“If you wish a silent and demure slave I am sure I can find a suitable replacement,” Kaim drawled back, putting the books in their proper place and tidying up Dorian’s desk.  
  
“Or I could just gag you,” Dorian muttered peevishly.  
  
“Then you’d just have my judging eyes to deal with,” Kaim glanced over at him, his eyes were half lidded with faux disdain and Dorian laughed heartily.  
  
It was only after Kaim disappeared into the bathing rooms and returned that Dorian realized he really wanted a bath.  
  
“I knew you were a mind reader,” he narrowed his eyes at Kaim who chuckled.  
  
“It was for my benefit, not yours,” Kaim quipped back.  
  
“Huh? Oh, of course, you wish to see my dashing figure,” Dorian gave him a smooth smile.  
  
Kaim waved his hand, unimpressed. “I’ve seen that for almost three years now,” Dorian scowled at him as Kaim chuckled. “No, it’s because of your life and death lesson today. Trust me, you _need_ a bath,” his grin was wide and teasing as he disappeared once more into the bathing rooms to check the water.  
  
Dorian opened his mouth to snap back, insulted, but stopped a moment and delicately sniffed at the armpit of his robes.  
  
“I do _not_ smell that bad, if that’s what you’re implying!” he shouted after the elf. Laughter floated to him from the tiled room.  
  
“I would _never_ ,” Kaim reappeared, “ _ever_ say _anything_ so crass or rude to you, Master,” Kaim's grin took in his entire face.  
  
“No...you’ll just heavily imply it,” Dorian scowled at him harder. Kaim laughed as he helped Dorian out of his robes.  
  
Once Dorian was finally submerged in the bath an idea struck him, watching Kaim as he moved about the edge of the bath, his shirt was off and he wore only pants as he had intended on giving Dorian a backrub.  
  
“Kaim, why is the water so cold?” Dorian asked with a slight whine. The elf looked at him in confusion, then down at the steaming surface of water.  
  
“It’s...cold?” he asked and Dorian swore his ears drooped slightly even as his eyebrows rose, giving him a very adorable confused expression.  
  
“Yes! Feel it!” he gestured at the surface. Delicately Kaim stepped over the tiled stairs up into the large tub, leaned one hand on the edge and with the other reached for the surface of the water as bid. Before he could think or react Dorian snatched the towel from the edge of the tub next to him, whipped it around Kaim’s neck and pulled sharply.  
  
With a yelp Kaim fell face first into the water as Dorian cackled madly. The mage was still cackling when Kaim surged to the surface, inhaling deeply and he turned to all out rolling laughter at Kaim’s appearance. The ebony hair hung all about him in soaked curtains that strung across his eyes and stuck to his face, neck, and shoulders, his brows were pulled low over his eyes in a glower and he kneeled in the water that sloshed over his shoulders. He looked like a very disgruntled, soaked cat and Dorian laughed even harder.  
  
Dorian’s only warning was the sound of the water sloshing before a hand braced the top of his head and shoved hard, forcing him beneath the water. The moment the weight of the hand was gone he shot to the surface, inhaling deeply and shaking the water out of his eyes, feeling his hair flop across his forehead in what he was sure was a rather unsexy manner.  
  
Kaim stood above him, hands on his hips, a rather pleased smirk on his face.  
  
“Turnabout is fair play,” he chuckled then fell back a step when Dorian surged to his feet, a teasing glower on his features. “Hah! You can’t touch me back! You don’t have permission!”  
  
“An oath you relentlessly abuse,” Dorian said snidely, then snatched up the now soaked towel that floated on the surface of the water, snapped it around the surprised elf’s shoulders and yanked again, using the weight of his upper body to shove Kaim to the bottom of the tub again.  
  
After a moment Kaim flailed back to the surface, sputtering slightly, blinking water out of his eyes, to Dorian’s amusement, greatly enjoying watching that beautiful black hair delicately float about his shoulders.  
  
“ _The water’s cold_ ,” he imitated Dorian disparagingly, “I shouldn’t have fallen for that,” Kaim chuckled despite his scowl.  
  
“That’s retribution for saying I stink,” the mage stated haughtily, his grin ruined any semblance of noble bearing however. “And since you’re here…” he threw his arms out, water sloshed everywhere, “WASH ME!!!” his grin was both childish and adorable and Kaim found himself rubbing his face with his palm, chuckling lightly.  
  
Kaim helped him wash up, then gave him a long, relaxing backrub. It amused him to discover it was much easier to do from within the tub as he could kneel, straddling Dorian’s hips and reach his shoulders and neck more easily. Of course the backrub dragged on longer than he’d intended as he had to wait for his boner to calm down.  
  
That would have been difficult to explain as his soaked pants didn’t leave much to the imagination.  
  
Finally Kaim rose and stepped lightly from the tub. After a moment of confused looking around Dorian realized what the issue was.  
  
“Just use one of the towels for yourself,” he chuckled, shamelessly eyeing the muscular backside with cloth shrinkwrapped to it. Kaim nodded before swallowing hard then peeling his pants off and stepping out of the soaked material. For Dorian’s part he was surprised at Kaim’s boldness, but he couldn’t stop staring at the vision he presented before the towel wrapped around his lean hips, covering him. It was one thing to know he was all lean corded muscle and well endowed for an elf, but it was another thing entirely to feast your eyes upon it.  
  
Dorian closed his eyes and leaned his head back briefly, attempting to think unsexy thoughts to prevent himself from hardening any further.  
  
“Master?” the mage’s eyes opened to find Kaim standing there, holding open a towel for him, his hair was slicked to his head, his pointy ears much more pronounced than usual and he stared at Dorian expectantly.  
  
He was definitely going to need to rub one out to that mental image tonight. Completely nude, soaking wet Kaim? None of this was helping any and he resisted the urge to bite his lip as he stepped out of the tub.  
  
\---  
  
The thick veil of night clung deeply to the corners of the sweeping ceilings, dulling the ornamentations and glittering accents, settling a muted peace over the ostentatious trappings of the Pavus household. Dorian yawned as he slipped through the door of the drawing room, leaving his mother to her evening tea. It was hard to resist the request of the woman when she’d asked him down for a board game and light conversation. Apparently she’d missed him in the years he’d been ensconced in his rooms with his studies and he felt guilty. Therefore it had become a weekly appointment for him to become ensconced in her drawing room for a few hours of tongue curling conversation and entertainment with cards or a board game. But she was his mother, and despite it all he still loved her.  
  
Now he eagerly crossed the vaulted empty space, a little tipsy from the wine his mother had offered him, staggering only slightly on his way back to his wing of the Pavus mansion when he heard raised voices. Eavesdropping had not been his intention, but when he heard his father practically growl his name his steps slowed. Light filtered in golden rays like a knife in the darkness from the open crevasse in his father’s study door and he paused, venturing a few steps closer.  
  
“I am at wits end!” Halward practically snapped. “The boy simply refuses to allow any contract to be negotiated. Every single family, every single girl, he finds SOME fatal flaw! Some small stain on the family name and blows it way out of proportion. Then either the family is insulted by the insinuation they aren’t good enough, or the claim ACTUALLY has merit and I have to pull us out of negotiations! It’s maddening!”  
  
“Do you not think his reasons valid?” the soft response was easily recognizable as his friend Magister Erasthenes.  
  
“A few of them are, but now I’m actually having trouble getting any of the noble houses to even AGREE to negotiations! The boy is _relentless_! Half the families are _afraid_ of what he might dig up next! I don’t know what’s _wrong_ with him. I was betrothed before I was even sixteen!”  
  
“What has been his excuse?” Erasthenes’ question was almost bored sounding.  
  
“Oh, his _studies_ have taken up all his attentions,” his father snorted. “That and that damned elf slave that follows him everywhere.”  
  
“Has there ever been an indiscretion?” Erasthenes voice lilted in intrigue.  
  
“Not that I know of. The thing is just with him ALWAYS. It’s nerve-wracking!”  
  
“So his studies and the elf?” the bored tone was back.  
  
“Do not misunderstand me, Erasthenes. Dorian has no equal in magical aptitude. Not at his age, at any rate. His command of mortalitasi and his status of _Altus_ at seventeen…” his father actually sounded proud and for a moment Dorian felt warmth filter through him.  
  
“Yes, quite the accomplishments. And with a father securely entrenched in the magisterium he would be a prime candidate, yes?”  
  
“If the _kaffas_ would only marry! Not a single thing he’s done will mean anything without a legacy! He could be fucking _Archon_ and it won’t mean anything! His life would have been _worthless_! Look at the _Archon_ today!” Halward’s tone held a note of disgust and Dorian felt his gut wrench. This was all his father thought of him? He was worthless without a wife and child?  
  
“Yes, Radonis rather does have himself in a pinch without an heir, doesn’t he? It would be a shame if something were to happen to him and a new _Archon_ had to be appointed. Perhaps a certain magister’s son? Don’t get too cocky though, Halward. You’re not the only one with a prodigy for a son,” Erasthenes reminded him.  
  
“Yes, yes, your own son is quite accomplished, is he not? And married already?” Halward sounded intensely jealous.  
  
“Indeed. We expect a child in the next few years. That is if all is working in the correct departments,” Erasthenes’ voice was smooth but full of venom. How could anyone stand having friends such as these?  
  
“I just don’t understand it, what’s wrong with him?” Halward sighed, sadness heavily laden each word. “Doesn’t he realize all his hard work is for nothing without a legacy? It will all die with him without a child to carry it on. Without a son...he is worthless.”  
  
The words bit deep and it took all his restraint to keep from bursting into the study and giving his father a piece of his mind. What’s _WRONG_ with him?! If only he knew the truth.  
  
_Worthless_. The word echoed in his mind as he stalked through the hall.  
  
He needed another drink.  
  
Trailing wisps of ambient magic Dorian stormed his way to his rooms, the wine he’d taken from the kitchens had done little to dull the pain of his father’s words, in fact they’d only chipped at his resolve to burst into his father’s study and give him a piece of his mind. Anger bubbled fiercely in his chest and he felt about to burst, he had to get back to his room before he broke something, he had to be near Kaim, his elf would make him feel better. He always did.  
  
At this point Dorian had little care for if his father heard him, muttering to himself angrily, magic snapped around him and broke a few of the vases in the halls before his rooms. Kaim was already on his feet before the doors burst open, the presence of the mage made obvious through the raucous he caused and the familiar swell of magic at his approach. Dorian was livid.  
  
Kaim immediately approached his master in thought of calming him down when the smell hit him. Dorian was drunk.  
  
“HOW _DARE_ HE?!” Dorian practically roared, ripping at his robes in an effort to get them off, Kaim quickly came to their rescue before he destroyed something important as his fingers were already beginning to smoke.  
  
“Master, calm yourself, please,” Kaim entreated him softly, his fingers working at lightning speed to rid the mage of accessories he obviously felt encumbered by.  
  
“CALM?! AFTER WHAT THAT _KAFFAS_ DARED SAY?!”  
  
Kaim flinched at the volume of his voice, making quick work of the under robes and carrying the valuable bundle to the safety of his bureau across the room.  
  
“Tell me what happened? Perhaps in the telling your calm will return?” he asked smoothly, assisting Dorian with the remainder of his robes, stripping the mage down to just his pants and boots. After a moment Kaim realized Dorian was staring at him with glittering eyes and he worked hard to resist the flush that threatened to heat his cheeks. Distractedly he crossed the room and placed his gear with the rest of the pile on the bureau.  
  
Sound behind him drew his attention and he turned in time to have Dorian’s body come crashing against his own, one hand seized his cheek, another buried in the hair at the back of his head, and his lips were claimed almost savagely in a passionate kiss that robbed him of breath. Dorian bent to accommodate his shorter height, the heady smell of wine and spicy scent that was all Dorian filled Kaim’s nostrils and a soft moan escaped him, finally remembering how to breathe again, his lips immediately submitted to the mage’s demands. Dorian seized the opportunity and invaded his mouth, caressing his tongue with his own and Kaim’s world turned on its head.  
  
A heady, wanting groan escaped the mage and he pressed closer, Kaim’s hips pushed against the bureau behind him and found him trapped between hard wood on both sides, he moaned into Dorian’s mouth as he ground his hips against the elf’s, their obvious erections rubbing together in hedonic friction that left them both panting hard.  
  
As abruptly as it began suddenly Dorian’s weight was gone, Kaim staggered at the loss of his body’s support, the cold air in his wake left him shivering and he immediately sought out the reason. Dorian had whirled away, both hands in his hair as though about to rip it out, his back muscles tense.  
  
“Oh, _kaffas_ , Maker what have I done?!” even in his inebriated state he’d realized his blunder. Every curse he knew in Tevene tumbled from his lips as he stormed across the his quarters toward his bathing rooms. Kaim leaned back against the bureau still panting for a moment, his foggy brain attempting to sort through what just happened when the sound of crashing pottery snapped him to reality.  
  
Graceful feet carried him to the bathing rooms as quickly as possible to find Dorian trashing the place, overturning tables, smashing wash bowls, towels were strewn everywhere.  
  
“Master! What-?!” his hand gripped Dorian’s bicep in attempt to stop him, but when Dorian whirled on him, his eyes spilled over with tears, his face twisted in rage and self-loathing the elf was rendered completely speechless again.  
  
“I WAS NEVER TO TOUCH YOU!!!” he shouted. “You were the one thing I was supposed to protect! To keep safe, even from myself! And I _failed_!!!” another bowl was thrown across the room and shattered against the tiled wall.  
  
At a complete loss Kaim did the only thing he could think of. Stretching as far as possible up onto his toes his arms wrapped around Dorian’s head and neck, forcing the mage down into a hug. Involuntarily Dorian’s arms went around Kaim’s waist, more in surprise than anything else, but after a moment’s hesitation he wound around the elf tightly and began sobbing. His legs all but collapsed beneath him and they sank to the floor, his face buried in Kaim’s chest and his servant’s arms protectively cradling his head, those magical fingers skimmed through his hair, his fingertips massaging his scalp soothingly.  
  
“It was not unwelcome,” Kaim told him fiercely, continuing to hold the despairing man.  
  
“Of course you’d say that,” Dorian hiccupped.  
  
“Do you really not trust me to speak my own mind after all these years?” Kaim leaned back gently and forced Dorian with soft fingers to look up into his eyes. “You trust my council in all else, why not this?” gentle thumbs gliding across his cheekbones smoothed away the mage’s tears.  
  
“Desire can too easily be used to inflict pain…”  
  
Kaim’s brow knit in sorrow, they had both known pain at the hands of a former lover and he understood Dorian’s feelings well.  
  
“Had this happened when I first became your servant one might think I was simply acting to make my master happy. Surely you realize I outright defy you when I feel convicted enough. Or even just to annoy you,” his smile brought a return smile from Dorian.  
  
“It is true. You are maddening at times,” he chuckled.  
  
“Only at times? I’ll have to work harder on that,” he smiled when a laugh bubbled from Dorian.  
  
“Kaim…” Dorian hesitated then pulled back, enacting some distance between them, “until you are a free man...I can’t allow myself weakness toward you,” his eyes met Kaim’s and held deep entreaty. “Else I will never feel you’ve come to me willingly.”  
  
“But it’s not true-”  
  
“You are still my _property_ ,” Dorian interrupted him sharply and Kaim flushed uncomfortably, his eyes dropped down and away. “And under the law you still have to fulfill my every voiced and sometimes unvoiced desires. I cannot allow even the smallest chance that I may have forced you. Please, believe me, I…” he paused and closed his eyes. “I will see the day that you are freed. I swear it. And when we stand before one another, as equals then...and only then...will I make my desires known.”  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the World of Thedas has smashed to bits the headcannon background I gave Dorian, so this whole story will have to be a complete rewrite of his personal history. Sorry guys. I guess I should have waited so I could fit him into the cannon history for him. Oh well.
> 
> I apologize for any lack in quality with this chapter, this was a really tough one for me. I just finally had to give up and stop picking at it, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual quality. Don't forget to let me know what you think, if you're not comfortable leaving a comment here you can leave on anonymously on my tumblr: selydra.tumblr.com
> 
> WARNING: I am increasing the rating to Explicit for one of the scenes in this chapter. There will be more NSFW content in coming chapters as well.
> 
> Thanks so much guys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna say a special thank you to Valkatra, Toneofstark, evilfaeriequeen, and gosh so many others who have been so supportive and encouraging these past few weeks. I really struggled with this one and you guys were awesome! (those are their tumblr names, I'm not sure if their AO3 names are the same because I'm silly and haven't figured it out yet)
> 
> Again:   
> WARNING: I am increasing the rating to Explicit for one of the scenes in this chapter. There will be more NSFW content in coming chapters as well.

Despite Dorian’s heartfelt desire to the contrary that kiss changed everything. It was now impossible to look at the elf without thinking about the feel of his lips against his own, how soft and compliant they’d been, how warm and inviting his mouth was, the taste of him. Dorian’s eyes could no longer gaze at Kaim’s graceful figure and not remember how he felt, pressed back against the bureau, trapped against his own body, the feeling of their erections through their pants.  
  
Their erections.  
  
Kaim had been as turned on as he was. An unwilling slave was required to take an herbal mixture to promote an erection for participation in sexual activities with their master. No such thing occurred here.  
  
Kaim had wanted him as much as he desired the elf. This was beyond bad.  
  
There was no way he would allow himself to take Kaim while he still claimed property ownership of him, but Kaim had responded to the kiss. His beautiful elf had been as hard as he was. Dorian was a ruin of conflicting desire and loyalty to his oath, to his duty to protect Kaim, even if it was from himself. Every cell in his body, every aspect of his being yearned for completion in Kaim’s hands, for his welcoming warmth, especially knowing the desires were mirrored in the elf.  
  
The concept of Kaim truly reciprocating was a difficult one for him to grasp. For so long he had shoved the feelings aside, buried them in the knowledge he would probably never have his one true desire, that giving Kaim a better life was enough. Now, with the flavor fresh on his tongue all semblance of calm had shattered, all delusions of control, the surge of emotions was strong leaving him drowning in their intensity. Visions of Kaim's nude body in the baths in conjunction with the remembered feeling of their hips grinding together almost brought Dorian to orgasm in his pants, without even touching himself.  
  
Maker, he wanted Kaim. And not just in body, Kaim was possessed of a brilliant mind, a kind spirit, a snarky sense of humor, and a fiery attitude. He was the perfect man. The perfect boyfriend. There was no subject they could not speak on, no lines between them, no secrets to hold, even Kaim’s shattered past, though left unspoken they both understood. And it was enough. Left in silence did not mean they were unknown. Sometimes when left unsaid is when knowledge is shared the loudest.  
  
Dorian sighed.  
  
Even the fact he was an elf was perfect. Those hauntingly beautiful eyes, elegant sloping ears that he wanted so badly to nibble on, he even adored their height and size difference. It made him immeasurably happy that he had to bend to meet Kaim's lips, with the elf's face turned up toward his, that graceful neck arched back. Dorian could literally wrap himself around the smaller man and Kaim fit so perfectly against his chest.  
  
To Dorian any perceived flaw only added to perfection. Kaim was unique, a shining beacon in a sea of grey, in an ocean of uniformity he was glittering gold against dull iron; he was the shining ray of light that cut through the inky blackness weighing him down, drowning him, pulling him into the depths. Kaim was the tingle in his fingers when he performed a magic spell just right, knowing it was the elf who helped him do so. A breath of fresh air in a room heavy with smoke.  
  
The door had been flung wide on a world Dorian had carefully shut out, the locks broken, the hinges torn. There was no closing this door now, the wood was splintered and shattered. But the real question was, did he really want that door closed again?  
  
Those few brief moments of contact had ruined him forever.  
  
\---  
  
Business continued between them as usual. Except that it didn't.  
  
There was no way Kaim could forget. The kiss was seared into his memory as surely as if his mind had been branded, every small detail perfectly preserved through countless moments of review, lovingly memorized. Had he even wanted to forget it may have been impossible, but it surely was when every moment of the following nights was spent in agonizing remembrance, self-inflicted. They had discussed over the years how to free Kaim from slavery, poured over every legal book they could obtain, read every publication on legal matters pertaining to slavery in the Imperium. Dorian had said he would not allow anything until Kaim was a free man, was that why he'd been working so hard on it? As he would never touch Kaim while enslaved he worked to free him?  
  
The idea sent warmth blooming through his chest.  
  
There was no denying it now, pandora’s box had been opened and suppressing what had been released was both futile and unwanted. He'd known for some time that he was in love with Dorian, but now it wasn't something he could just ignore as an impossibility. Now he'd had a taste of it, and he knew Dorian felt the same. Now, standing at the fence he fully comprehended what lay beyond within his gaze, before it had not bothered him, this world just out of reach. Now...now he had a reason to wish for it. With Dorian as his master there was never want for anything. No, he was not possessed of freedom, in the fullest sense of the word, but freedom was also intimidating, freedom was frightful, freedom meant responsibility. Of all people Kaim best understood, Dorian was not a free man either, shackled with the golden links of his father’s chain. The freedom Kaim knew, the freedom Dorian possessed that he did not was not freedom at all, and so he desired nothing. Before at least.  
  
Before that kiss. Before his mind had been opened, before the full knowledge of what he could have had made itself known.  
  
Dorian truly cared for him. All the training, the long nights together, the painstaking education Dorian had overseen himself, their exhaustive research into the cracking slavery foundation of the Imperium, none of that would have happened had Dorian not cared for him deeply. Now, blessed with hindsight he could see.  
  
Even days after that fateful night they would abruptly lock eyes, instantaneously knowing the other’s thoughts and much blushing and throat clearing would ensue, but they couldn’t seem to stop. A smile would spread across Kaim’s face and Dorian would get all flustered. It would be adorable if it wasn’t so sad.  
  
Kaim fully understood he was doomed to a life of servitude, a life with a master he loved with his whole heart and who would always remain just out of reach. A master who respected him as a person and refused to sully anything they might have had together with his slavery, as much of a boon as a curse that was. The very thing that brought them together was also keeping them apart. Dorian wanted him as a free man, not as a potentially unwilling participant. As an equal.  
  
It made Kaim’s chest ache.  
  
Falling back into their familiar routine was heart rending. As difficult as it was cathartic. The routine helped keep their minds off their emotional turmoil, but at the same time it was a keen reminder that not all was the same. In fact much was not the same.  
  
So what do two men do who want one another so badly that it hurts but cannot do anything about it?  
  
Why flirt outrageously of course.  
  
\---  
  
“Kaim!” Dorian called languidly, slouched in his chair as had become his custom, feet propped up on his desk and crossed at the ankle. “Where’s my-” the words died in his throat with a squeak when he dropped his book from in front of his face to find Kaim’s face just shy of a breath away. His nose had to have almost been practically touching the book binding with how close he was. A self-satisfied and exceedingly pleased smile graced Kaim’s lips, a chill ran down Dorian’s spine, likely similar to the way a canary felt when faced with a cat, predator to prey. Perhaps more akin to one cat hunting the other for Dorian was never one to remain as prey for long.  
  
“Yes, master?” the elf practically purred, warm breath cascaded across the sensitive skin of his face and Dorian couldn’t stop the shivers that coursed down his spine. Those long, elegant, glittering blue green eyes seemed so much larger this close, even half lidded as they were. And Maker, did the man have long lashes. It was entirely purposeful, completely uncalled for, and Dorian was so thoroughly enchanted he could hardly stand it. Oh, so that’s how it was going to be? Well, two could play that game.  
  
The moment the expression in those grey eyes shifted Kaim knew he was in trouble. Agonizingly slowly Dorian leaned forward until he was so close their noses almost touched but stopped just short, their breaths ghosting in soft puffs across the planes of their cheeks. Grey twinkled mischievously as he boldly ran his eyes down Kaim’s features, lingering for a few long, heart pounding moments on his lips before leaning further forward. His nose followed the line of silken hair back, inhaling his heavenly, clean scent until he reached the arc of that long sweeping ear that parted the ebony waterfall.  
  
“If you would be so kind, Kaim...I find myself in need of my grimoire,” he whispered against the shell of his ear, exceedingly pleased when Kaim visibly shuddered. Apparently that rumor about elves ears was true. How delicious.  
  
Kaim’s head turned and he could feel those soft lips just barely trail along his neck up to his jaw and he bit his lip to keep from making any sounds. “I’ll get it for you, master,” Kaim whispered back, his breath heated Dorian’s neck and the underside of his jaw, he felt his own eyebrows knit up, desire flushed his whole body and tented his pants, the fabric restraining him uncomfortably.  
  
It definitely wasn’t fair that Kaim could touch him and he couldn’t return the favor, but that almost made the game more tantalizing, as somehow he knew Kaim wouldn’t carry it much farther than he was capable of reciprocating.  
  
Embarrassingly he almost whined when Kaim pulled away, cold air rolled in like the tide in the wake of Kaim’s departure and he watched the lean, lithe figure move across the room with his customary grace, his eyes hungrily drank in every line and curve. When the elf finally returned with the required tome he was leaning his elbow on the arm of his chair, chin on the heel of his palm and his middle finger bit between his teeth, eyes brimming with desire.  
  
“This is a dangerous game we’re playing,” Dorian informed him, his voice husky and he accepted the proffered book.  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, master,” Kaim smiled at him coyly then moved off to the side to organize and put away the pile of books on his desk, the young noble resisted groaning again.  
  
They settled once again into their normal comfortable routine for the remainder of the day, though somehow Dorian knew the war wasn't over.  
  
\---  
  
There was nothing for it. He was going to die.  
  
Absolutely nothing in Thedas was more boring than accompanying his mother to one of her soirees. Unless someone died of course, then things were always more interesting. It was a new tactic his delightful mother had adopted, since his father had thus far proven to be ineffective. Now she was dragging him along to all these little gatherings in the hopes of forcing him into a tet-a-tet with some unsuspecting (or rather not, as it was usually planned) woman whom his mother hoped he’d fancy. These little ambushes and conversations of sabotage were becoming a weekly thing and there was nothing for it. He could not simply refuse his mother, especially when she’d already told their hostess he would be attending. Ambush indeed.  
  
To make matters worse she absolutely could not stand Kaim’s presence there, with the additional claim that he upset the other ladies, so he was forced to leave Kaim at the Pavus estate. Of course Kaim was ever so understanding and sorrowful of their separation.  
  
“You needn’t cackle so every time I am forced into one of these ridiculous affairs,” Dorian complained as Kaim assisted him in dressing.  
  
“Apologies, master. I shall remain contrite and sullenly silent through this sordid event,” the elf couldn’t even finish the statement before bursting into chuckles. Dorian scowled down at the elf’s bent head as he buckled the plethora of silver adornments on the lavish, silk robes.  
  
“Your amusement at my suffering only further enforces what an evil young man you are,” the young Pavus’ voice was filled with every ounce of considerable haute he possessed, but this only drew more cackles from the young elf who was attempting to buckle the complex leather straps that wound across Dorian’s thick chest. “Alright, enough you! Impertinent creature!” Dorian couldn’t stop his own chuckles, crossing the room to his dresser before Kaim was finished.  
  
“Wait!” Kaim wheezed, following his master in an attempt to complete the complex adornments. “Oh, stop, you petulant, overgrown child!” the elf yanked back on the leather straps, pleased when Dorian yelped in indignation.  
  
“I beg your pardon!” the mage exclaimed, unable to suppress his laughter.  
  
“You’d better! I make you look good!” Kaim laughed.  
  
“Hmmm…” Dorian tapped his lips with one tapered finger. “Perhaps that’s the problem...maybe if I appeared less desirable…”  
  
“Appearances are nothing, the moment you open your mouth all desire is flown,” Kaim cackled again when Dorian yanked out of his grasp.  
  
“You are horrible to me! And to think this is how you repay my kindness to you!” the young mage crossed his arms over his chest and assumed a very convincing pouting expression.  
  
“Aww, my poor, downtrodden master,” Kaim sidled close and raised onto his tiptoes, swaying to just a breath away and maneuvered his face so his lips stopped just shy of Dorian’s chin and jaw. “My apologies. When you return I just may have to massage away your stress. If the last soiree is any indication I will have a considerable amount to work out and may need to climb in the bath with you,” the words were whispered along the beautiful, rich skin and he grinned when Dorian shivered.  
  
“I really need to start hating you,” Dorian muttered, his voice dropped an octave and gained a decidedly husky quality.  
  
“Why? I just gave you something to fill your thoughts during this torturous affair,” the elf smiled broadly and finished dressing his master, who neither helped nor hindered.  
  
“Never before have I been so glad of Tevinter fashion being comprised of draping robes,” he indicated his front in frustration and Kaim grinned.  
  
“Enjoy the soiree, master,” his smile was wide as Dorian gave him a withering look, then ducked out the door.  
  
Hours of mind-numbing social interaction later Dorian finally returned to the blessed sanctuary of his personal suite, utterly exhausted by his mother’s tireless efforts to get him to notice one of the women. Any of the women. Though entirely torturous, Kaim’s strategy had worked, Dorian frequently found his mind wandering back to the elf who sat ensconced in his rooms, blithely oblivious to the entire torrid affair.  
  
On entering his private wing once more he cast his eyes about until he found the object of his desires. Kaim lay reclined on the couch built into the soaring windows, they formed a half circle alcove and the sofa filled the entire alcove in luxurious cushions and bedecked with numerous plush pillows. It was a magnificent place to read, and this was apparently what currently occupied the elf, his back was to Dorian and he lay on one side, propped up by his elbow. Orange and gold rays of sunlight stream through the crystalline windows to play in decadent gems across Kaim’s glimmering hair, which lay over one shoulder, exposing his long, elegant neck. The sun warmed his skin, giving it a golden and ethereal glow, the elf was truly resplendent in every sense of the word and for a moment Dorian found himself transfixed.  
  
After long moments of simply drinking in the sight he started forward as though drawn, knowing full well the elf heard him, Kaim’s hearing was too good to have not, but the elf still hadn’t turned. This was habitual however, Dorian knew they both would easily become engrossed in whatever they read and instead of disturbing him he sat on the edge of the sofa niche, just watching his elf read.  
  
“Apologies,” Kaim murmured after a few moments, and he closed the book with a care and reverence that so few showed to their reading material these days, “I was captivated by that particular passage,” he stretched then sat up fully, swinging his feet around gracefully to sit beside Dorian.  
  
“I was captivated as well, but not by the book,” Dorian said softly, boldly, wishing with everything he had that he could just reach out and run his fingers along Kaim’s cheek and jaw. The elf flushed prettily then slipped off the sofa and crossed the room to place the book back on the shelf.  
  
“How unbearable was the event this time?” he chuckled as he turned back to face Dorian who hadn’t moved from the sofa, his glittering grey eyes following Kaim’s every movement.  
  
“Made more bearable by the vivid thoughts you left me with,” Dorian gave him a charming smile and Kaim laughed.  
  
“I told you it would work,” the elf’s chuckles continued as he sauntered into the bathing rooms to start the water warming. Task completed he returned and assisted Dorian out of the complex, silken robes he’d dressed him in hours before.  
  
It was nothing new, Kaim had touched him hundreds of times before, possibly thousands, his touches spanned almost four years of servitude, but knowledge changed everything. Innocent brushes became charged caresses. A palm smoothing the wrinkles from silk became sensual massages. The heat of Kaim’s body as he swayed close, rising on his toes to slide the garment from across Dorian’s shoulders, it was pure agony. So close, yet never to touch, within reach, yet the gulf between them impassable, a breath away, yet the path to meet him insurmountable.  
  
By the time Dorian finally stepped in the tub he was practically quivering with the effort of holding back, of not touching Kaim, of not letting his fingers slide through that glorious hair, fisting it and tilting his head back so he could claim those soft lips. An agonized sigh escaped Dorian and he folded his arms on the side of the tub, allowing his forehead to rest on his forearms and closed his eyes, even the deep cleansing breaths he took did little to stop the ache.  
  
Behind him the water sloshed and he attempted to let his mind wander while those magical fingers worked out every point of tension in his back, shoulders, and neck, did not allow his thoughts to rest on the graceful body in the water with him. Oh, he tried. And failed. Magnificently.  
  
Regardless of mental turmoil Kaim’s fingers did the trick, every ounce of stress melted away into the steaming water and Dorian almost found himself drifting off, sinking into heavenly oblivion. The water sloshing brought him back to reality and he finally glanced up, resting his chin on his forearms as Kaim slipped from the tub and crossed the tile to where the towels were folded neatly. With his back to Dorian he slid his pants off, allowing them to pool in a wet heap at his feet, then snatched up one of the towels.  
  
“Kaim,” Dorian’s soft voice drew his attention and he glanced over his shoulder at the mage whose cheek rest on his arms, watching him with half lidded eyes. “This is a request, not an order. I want you to refuse if you are uncomfortable, but will you turn around?” those grey eyes trailed his muscular back and he paused. Kaim’s gaze fell to the towel in his hand as he considered, wondering if it was wise to fulfill this particular wish. As it was they were barely holding it together. But Dorian was not allowed to touch, and Kaim trusted he would be able to maintain control of himself, so long as he didn’t drink too much.  
  
Mind settled, Kaim allowed the towel to rest back on the shelf and he turned slowly, a blush tingeing his cheeks. Committing to anything of a sexual nature voluntarily was still very new to him, even if it was simply allowing himself to stand there nude and exposed, and he couldn’t meet Dorian’s gaze for a few moments. It didn’t help that he was still halfway aroused from Dorian’s massage, it took every ounce of Kaim’s willpower to remain still and not cover himself.  
  
“Beyond magnificent,” Dorian’s words were breathless and Kaim found his eyes drawn to where his master still sat in the bath, the mage’s cheeks flush with arousal, the most worshipful expression in his glimmering eyes and Kaim found his breath stolen away. A soft chuckle surprised the elf. “There aren’t words to describe what you are, they all seem horridly lacking, their lustre burns away leaving any possible descriptor sadly inadequate.”  
  
Kaim glanced away in embarrassment, impossibly flattered. No one had ever looked at him the way Dorian did. Yes, he was naked, as he had been before others, but in Dorian’s eyes he saw nothing but worship and...something else entirely that scared him more than a little, but not ‘scared’ in the same way. He did not fear Dorian. He feared the emotion he saw in Dorian’s eyes that he knew so well in himself.  
  
“I’m…” Dorian allowed his head to drop once more and he breathed deeply a few times, attempting to regain control of himself. “You should probably go ahead and get dressed. I’ll remain here until you are done...hopefully I’ll have calmed by then,” the chuckle he gave was almost painfully rueful and Kaim nodded as his voice had failed him, though he knew Dorian couldn’t see, snatching up the towel and hurrying from the room.  
  
When Kaim finally returned he was dressed, calm once more, and fully in control of himself, though  much of his prior resolve was still shaken. On re-entering the baths he found Dorian sitting on the side of the tub, his head bowed, appearing deeply lost in thought. With gentle hands he retrieved a towel and wrapped it about his master’s shoulders, the contact stirred Dorian from his introspection and the young man stepped from the bath, allowing Kaim to assist him in drying.  
  
“Kaim,” his voice was soft, thoughtful as the elf smoothed his bathrobe over his shoulders, wrapping him in the soft fabric. “What we’re doing...it shouldn’t continue,” Kaim’s hands paused in his movements and he allowed his hands to just rest along the planes of Dorian’s back as he rolled the words over in his mind.  
  
“It wouldn’t change anything if we stopped,” the elf returned just as softly. A long heavy sigh escaped Dorian and Kaim felt him slouch slightly.  
  
“I know,” the words almost came out like a sob and Kaim leaned against his back, allowing his forehead to rest between the mage’s shoulders, just basking in his warmth for the briefest of moments. “I’m sorry,” Dorian murmured just barely above a whisper. “If I hadn’t gotten drunk, lost control, and violated you then none of this would be a problem. I cracked the fragile crystalline wall between us and nothing can fix it…”  
  
Kaim came around Dorian to face him. “We will work through it, like everything else we’ve accomplished together,” he told the mage sweetly, reaching up to pull the robe more closely about his neck so he stayed warm.  
  
“Our problem is not something logic can fix,” Dorian countered with a sad chuckle. “In fact, if literature and history dictate, it is one of the few problems that cannot be fixed by logic,” his words were laden with hopelessness and Kaim gazed up at him feelingly.  
  
“We will find a way,” Kaim told him more firmly, smiling bravely, though that was entirely the opposite of how he truly felt. “Now let us get you dressed, I will get your dinner, and we will speak of lighter subjects, yes?”  
  
Dorian smiled at him softly. “What would I do without you?”  
  
“I shudder to think,” Kaim teased lightly with a grin.  
  
\---  
  
The metallic blade flashed golden in the early morning light, slender, sleek, and deadly sharp. Expert fingers flipped the blade to the right angle, the movements sure and confident. The flash of his throat as he breathed, a pulse beating a steady staccato under his fingers, skin warm beneath them. A smirk danced on Kaim’s lips as he drew the blade along the rich skin of Dorian’s neck.  
  
“What would you think about my growing a mustache?” Dorian asked abruptly, his head tilted to assist Kaim in shaving that side of his throat.  
  
“I think you should stop moving so I don’t accidentally cut you,” Kaim’s tone teasingly disagreeable.  
  
“Tsk,” Dorian rolled his eyes. “Well? What do you think?” he ignored the elf’s long suffering sigh.  
  
“I think elves don’t much care about facial hair. As we are incapable of growing any I hadn’t put much thought to it,” he stopped a moment to eye Dorian’s face critically. “And you would look dashing in pretty much anything with exception of a beard. Although, given the challenge, I am confident you could make even that work.”  
  
It took a lot for Dorian to resist outright laughing at the comment, he knew Kaim was only teasing about cutting him, but it was never wise to tempt the fates purposefully.  
  
“Honestly, I’ve known you as you are for so long that is difficult for me to picture it. If you so desire I can stop shaving your upper lip?” the elf raised an eyebrow and Dorian chuckled.  
  
“No, don’t go doing anything drastic yet. It was merely a thought. And truly? I wasn’t sure if you shaved at some ungodly hour of the morning before I awoke, as the psychopath you are.”  
  
Kaim had to actually stop what he was doing and rest his fists on his hips, the razor dripped shaving cream to the floor behind him. “I’m going to ignore the psychopath comment entirely and simply ask: when have you ever known me to have stubble of any kind?”  
  
“Hmm…” Dorian affected a thoughtful expression, “now that you mention it…” he paused a moment. “Come to think of it, when you got out of the bath a while ago I didn’t see much hair on you at all,” his mental eye skimmed down Kaim’s bare chest when he wore his dancer pants and there was no hair to be found. “Does that mean you’re completely hairless?”  
  
“No of course not,” Kaim resumed shaving him. “Elf males have fine hair that covers our arms and legs,” Dorian's eyes dropped to his bared forearms and did indeed note a fine sheen of hair there, though it was hardly visible. “Females have even less. But yes, we do have hair, just not the plethora of fuzz humans seem to have,” he accentuated his point by poking a finger into the light dusting of dark hair across Dorian’s chest.  
  
“Excuse you! I am NOT fuzzy!” the mage looked appalled. Kaim firmly gripped the squared chin and turned his head gently but forcefully, ensuring Dorian saw his brow raised in judgement before doing so.  
  
“Compared to me you are,” the tone was all too haughty and Dorian would have none of that.  
  
“Says the man with easily three times the hair I have hanging down his back,” it was his turn to roll his eyes and Kaim chuckled.  
  
“Speaking of which, are we cutting your hair today as well?” he set the blade aside and proceeded to card his fingers from Dorian’s temples up to the crown of his head, the hair slipped easily between the digits, burying them completely in the black hair to accentuate his point. It was long enough to need to be tucked behind his ears and it almost touched his collar in the back. Pieces in the front fell roguishly across his forehead.  
  
“No, leave it for now. I haven’t quite decided how I want to style it,” his eyes half lidded, he loved it when Kaim ran his fingers through his hair, he only wished he could return the favor. The fingers in his hair tugged gently and he found himself forced to look up toward the ceiling, instead Kaim was bent slightly over him from his position beneath him in his seat, and his view of Kaim was upside down.  
  
“Are you growing it out long? Because your father will throw a fit if it gets too long. He’ll probably blame my influence on you,” Kaim smiled wider at Dorian’s blatant staring at his lips.  
  
“The shape of your eyes is incredibly accentuated when you’re upside down, just so you know,” Kaim laughed and Dorian grinned. “But no, I’m not copying you and growing it out. I just don’t know how I want it cut yet. Too many noble youths have imitated my haircut since my early appointment to Altus and I realized I was in need of a change. Now quit stalling or we’ll be late!” Dorian mock scowled at him.  
  
A laugh bubbled from the elf. “Yes, master,” he breathed quietly, allowing his face to hover a breath away from Dorian’s before he pulled back to reclaim the razor and completed the last few strokes to finish Dorian’s shave.  
  
Kaim assisted Dorian in changing into extremely fine, very ornate robes before they left. Magister Halward awaited them in the hall and they proceeded to the carriage together.  
  
"Remember, Dorian, you're speaking before the lower chamber. Stick to the research and make sure to answer their questions thoroughly," Halward settled into the seat opposite his son.  
  
"Have no fear, I will attempt not to embarrass you too thoroughly, father," Dorian drawled sarcastically, ignoring his father's return scowl.  
  
Dorian had been invited to speak and debate with the lower floor of the Circle of Enchanters on the magical theorem of mortalitasi with a few guests from Nevarra. His excitement was so great he practically vibrated in his skin. It was his dream to visit the Grand Necropolis, but having actual Nevarran Mortalitasi here in Tevinter was next best. His only regret was that only certain slaves were allowed in the lower chambers of the Enchanter’s Circle, so Kaim would be required to sit outside and wait for him all day.  
  
It was sure to make for an eternally boring day for the poor young elf, but he determined he would make it up to him later that night by regaling him with everything that was discussed during the debate.  
  
\---  
  
The debates went fabulously and Dorian couldn’t have been happier. Even his father seemed pleased with the turnout and the responses. The two Pavus men actually participated in light, non-condescending conversation on the carriage ride home. Unbelievable.  
  
“Will you be attending dinner tonight?” Halward asked, flicking imaginary dust off his immaculate robes.  
  
“I will not, father. I am way too tired after so many hours of debate,” Dorian’s eyes never left the window, knowing his father would be upset and that likely an argument was coming.  
  
“I see,” Halward’s eyes narrowed at his son briefly, his eyes flicked to the elf kneeling on the carriage floor by the door, then he cast them out the opposite window, chin raised. Dorian couldn’t believe it, no argument? Nothing snarky to say? Perhaps he grew tired of the constant scuffling they did. Dorian certainly was. Well, this was a welcome reprieve.  
  
Kaim followed his master mutely as they traversed the hall and made their way to Dorian’s wing, completely unperturbed by the narrowed eyes of Halward following them until they disappeared.  
  
“Maker, Kaim! It was glorious! I wish you could have been there!” Dorian gushed the moment the doors were closed, pleased at Kaim’s return grin.  
  
“Tell me,” the elf insisted as he fell easily into the familiar motions of removing Dorian’s complex silken robes so the mage could relax more comfortably. In excited tones Dorian outlined the entire debate, naming each magister and enchanter who spoke, the spells that were examined, the texts referenced, locations of magical power. The words couldn’t seem to spill from him fast enough and Kaim sat with him on the bed, enraptured, occasionally interjecting with his own thoughts.  
  
Dorian really wished he could have been there, Kaim always brought up really good points that he didn’t always think of himself.  
  
Kaim had just wrapped up the thought he’d been sharing with Dorian when suddenly he found himself almost nose to nose with the mage and he startled back slightly. Dorian was very pleased with himself that he’d caught the elf off guard.  
  
“You should have seen me,” he said softly, leaning as close to Kaim as he dared, “I was so majestic out there on the debate floor,” his smile was brilliant and Kaim felt himself flush slightly. His master was leaned over him, hands planted on either side of him on the bed, staring at him with those shimmering grey eyes.  
  
“You are always majestic,” Kaim smiled back, his eyes slid halfway shut and he tilted his head, the ebony curtain of hair slid over his shoulder and exposed his long, bronzed neck, pleased when Dorian’s eyes flicked down along his features, clearly distracted.  
  
“As are you,” the mage leaned forward experimentally, the proximity forced Kaim to lean a little farther back, not wishing to allow Dorian to break his oath. Oh, his elf was so conscientious. Time to take advantage of that.  
  
With a predatory smile he continued moving forward, one of Kaim’s eyebrows quirked up a little and he allowed himself to be metaphorically pushed backward until he lay flat. His hair pooled around his head and he gazed up at Dorian with glittering eyes. The Pavus noble practically knelt overtop him at this point, just shy of their bodies touching and he almost groaned at the sight Kaim presented. So, that’s what he would look like beneath him.  
  
There was no suppressing the shiver that ran down Dorian’s spine.  
  
With a wicked smile Kaim brought his hand up and crooked a finger at Dorian, enticing him to bend forward. Rather hesitantly the mage complied and leaned down, bringing their faces close. Once their cheeks were side by side Kaim turned slightly so his lips would brush Dorian’s skin.  
  
“I have only one question for you,” Kaim whispered. “Would you like me to get your dinner now?”  
  
Dorian burst out laughing and he sagged slightly, though he made sure not to touch the elf. “Maker, I should hate you so much,” he lifted his head and grinned down at Kaim who just grinned up at him, pleased with himself.  
  
“You can’t. I’m wonderful.”  
  
“And you’ve picked up my wonderful attitude,” he laughed again as he climbed off the bed and subsequently the elf. “Yes, go get my dinner, you infuriating desire demon.”  
  
Kaim paused a moment. “I’ve never seen one. Are they sexy?”  
  
The mage’s head fell back in a laugh, trying not to think about how uncomfortably tight his pants were. “Maker preserve, yes. And it is an apt description for you,” he gave the elf a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow. A laugh bubbled from Kaim before he slipped from the room.  
  
Halfway down the hallway Kaim realized he’d forgotten to ask Dorian what wine he wanted wine with dinner, they’d been so wrapped up in their talk and their endless flirting that it had completely slipped his mind. His steps turned and he headed back toward Dorian’s room.  
  
With practiced movements borne from years of habitual activity Dorian entered his bathing rooms. Thinking Kaim away for a while he leaned back against the tile and quickly undid his pants, freeing his throbbing erection at last. A heated sigh tore from him as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back, his fingers moving along his length.  
  
A palm gently smoothed atop his hand startled him and his head snapped down to find Kaim kneeling before him, tenderly arresting his movement with his own hand.  
  
"Kaim, w-what-?"  
  
Very slowly those gorgeous eyes trailed up his mostly nude form until they glittered up into his, heated desire simmering in them, stealing his breath away.  
  
"Years I have ached to touch you, I can’t deny myself anymore," Kaim’s voice was husky, sending shivers of lust through Dorian, the elf's eyes returned to the thick, swollen flesh before his face and he moistened his enticing lips with the tip of his pink tongue.  
  
"Kaim, I won't-" his words morphed to lustful moans as Kaim's lips parted and enveloped the head of his cock. Impossibly warm and moist, Kaim slowly drew Dorian into his mouth, inch by glorious inch. Every fiber of Dorian's being wanted to throw his head back and howl his pleasure to the ceiling, but he forced himself to watch, desiring not to miss a moment. For too long he had wanted this, dreamed of it. Now that it was happening he never wanted to forget.  
  
Needing to grip something, but not trusting himself to touch the silky black hair he clawed at the tile behind his hips, his abs bunching with the effort of restraining himself from bucking into that magnificent mouth.  
  
Kaim took his time, savoring the taste of his skin, the velvety texture against his tongue, the flavor of the precum dripping down his throat, the feel of each thick vein against his lips, the sheer weight and thickness of him inside his mouth. In all Kaim was in paradise.  
  
When the thick length finally bumped the back of his throat a hearty moan ripped from Dorian's chest and Kaim hummed happily, pressing him further in, the vibration of Kaim’s vocal cords against the head of his cock sent the mage reeling, his fingers clawed at the wall desperately. Involuntarily Dorian's hips bucked and he groaned again loudly, watching the elf devour him eagerly.  
  
Just as agonizingly slowly Kaim slid him out, his hands trailed up Dorian's legs, setting them quivering. As he picked up a smooth rhythm his fingers circled the toned hips and gripped his ass, his thumbs tickling the mage's hip bones.  
  
Briefly he pulled back enough to circle the head of Dorian's cock with his tongue, coating it in saliva and precum before sliding him back down his throat.Unable to help himself the fingers of Dorian's right hand buried in those flowing ebony locks at the back of his head as he bobbed up and down, sucking each time he slid out.  
  
With each passing moment Dorian's moans grew louder and more desperate, heat so warm he thought he might burst into flame coiled under his belly button. Kaim's name tumbled like nectar from his lips as the elf quickened the pace, eager to taste his passion.  
  
"KAIM!!!!" his whole body seized up and his eyes screwed shut as his orgasm rocked him to his very soul. Kaim's eyes absorbed every detail of his beautiful expression even as his throat worked to swallow Dorian's release, sucking him dry with gentle lips, greedy for every drop he had to offer.  
  
Breathing hard Dorian's eyes opened once more and he palmed Kaim's cheek with an affectionate hand, his thumb tracing the contour under his elegant eye.  
  
"The reason has at last revealed itself," the cold voice brought both their heads up in shock to find Magister Halward standing the open door of the bathing room, harsh light from the bedroom beyond sent his features into sharp relief as the bathroom was dimly lit, adding to the severity of his words.  
  
Kaim fell back with a gasp, transfixed in horror as Dorian struggled to cover himself. "Father?! What-?" Dorian’s moans of pleasure must have masked the sound of his father entering the rooms, for the elf had not heard him.  
  
"For years your mother and I have toiled endlessly in attempt to find a suitable match for you, every attempt sabotaged by my own son. And now I know why," he snarled, advancing into the room. "Instead you fuck this...THING!!!" he seized Kaim by the hair and yanked, eliciting a pained yelp from the elf.  
  
"Father! Stop!"  
  
Ignoring his son he dragged the squirming slave behind him, pulling on the ebony hair, headed for the doors of the chambers.  
   
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Dorian screamed.  
  
"Ridding my house of this trash! I will not have my son debasing himself with filth!" the words were hardly out of his mouth when he was struck hard from behind, the air left his lungs in a whoosh, his magical wards remained in place and he was only knocked forward to his knees, releasing Kaim in the process.  
  
Fury lit his father's grey eyes as he turned slowly and righted himself. "You dare?!" he said dangerously.  
  
"He is mine and you will not lay a hand on him!" Dorian screamed at him, voice raw, hands glowed in preparation should he need another spell. He knew his father would not be more than stunned by the spell, the magister never went anywhere without some sort of protective enchantment.  
  
"You are sorely mistaken, Dorian,” Halward spat, face lined with anger, “he belongs to me. It was I who purchased him four years ago, in case you have forgotten!” he spat venomously and Dorian felt his gut clench. The words, unfortunately, rang true. “Choose carefully," his father's voice simmered in fury, "if he is not gone by morning then I will disown you. I will not have you bringing shame on my house!" With that he whirled on his heel and stalked from the room, slamming the door in his wake.  
  
In a flash Dorian was by the crumpled elf’s side, Kaim whimpered when he gently detangled his bloodied hands from the damaged hair.  
  
"Shh, shh, I'll fix it," Dorian cooed gently, removing his crimson coated fingers and smoothed the abused flesh with his own. Calming blue glowed around his hands as he knit the torn flesh and soothed the damage done by his father.  
  
"Well," he said sadly, turning Kaim's face up to his own so he could gaze into those beautiful eyes, "it looks like your days here as my slave are over," he said sadly, his reflective grey eyes misting over.  
  
"What-?" Kaim gazed back at him in confusion, his own eyes shimmering.  
  
"We have to get you out of Tevinter. Tonight."  
  
"But-...what about you?" Kaim's voice tinged with desperation, both his hands came up to palm Dorian's face.  
  
Affection filled Dorian's eyes and he covered one of Kaim's hands with his own, taking the other and kissing his knuckles lightly. "I have to stay here. I can't fix Tevinter from the outside," he told him sadly. "I will go through the process of freeing you, and when it's safe I will either find you and bring you back, or I will join you."  
  
"But-" tears spilled over Kaim's thick lashes and down his cheeks. "This is all my fault...I shouldn't have..."  
  
"Please, don't-" Dorian's heart was shattering piece by piece and he leaned forward, kissing each trail of tears.  
  
"Dorian, what will I do? Where will I go?" Kaim asked fearfully. "I-I...I don't want to be without you!"  
  
" _Now_ you call me by my name," Dorian chuckled sadly. "I'll give you a significant amount of coin and you can try to find a dalish clan. I've heard they wander the Free Marches south of here. It won't easy, but if you stay my father _will_ kill you. And as you told me, so many years ago, he's the one person I can't protect you from."  
  
As though in a terrible nightmare that they both wished they could wake from they packed a few meager supplies for Kaim. True to his word Dorian endowed him with a large sack of coin. They stuffed a few of Kaim’s more sensible outfits into a bag for him, and had the elf dress in the soft leather boots and cloak he’d obtained for their forays outside the city.  
  
On silent feet they stole from the house and into the night. Dorian purchased coach passage to the edge of the city and they sat in the carriage in silence, Kaim wrapped firmly against him under Dorian’s own cloak, eager for as much contact as possible with what little time they had.  
  
At the city limits Dorian purchased horses, glad he’d taught Kaim to ride years ago, and they left the city under the velvety cover of night. All through the night they rode, pushing the horses to their limits, eager to reach the edge of Minrathous territory.  
  
When dawn at last began to break Dorian called a halt.  
  
“I need to return, lest my father send guard to follow us,” they dismounted and Kaim threw himself at Dorian, the mage’s arms circled the lean elf, holding him as close as possible.  
  
“I-I...I’ve never not been a slave…I-I don’t know what to do…” Kaim was suddenly very afraid. The world was so big and he had always been so safe with Dorian. “What if I get lost? Or...or attacked…”  
  
“Kaim, you are the strongest, most brilliant man I know. You’ll adjust quickly and forget all about me-” his words were cut off as Kaim’s arms tightened around the mage.  
  
“Never.”  
  
Dorian’s ran his fingers through that beautiful hair, eyebrows drawn low over eyes that quickly filled with tears. When he pulled back a map was pressed into Kaim’s hand and at the same time he slipped the gold ring off Kaim’s middle finger.  
  
“Shadow the Imperial Highway, but do not ride upon it. I fear slavers will attack you if you do. Follow it all the way to Nevarra. From there head east into the Free Marches. I am sure an elf seeking a dalish clan will attract the right kind of attention,” Dorian cupped Kaim’s face in both his hands, his chest wrenched painfully at the tears pouring from the elf’s eyes.  
  
“I can’t do this. Please, don’t make me go,” Kaim whispered.  
  
Dorian could hardly see for his own tears. “Yes, you _can_. And I would make you leave a thousand times over, enduring this heartbreak each time, if it meant you _lived_. I’d rather you live and us be parted than…” he couldn’t even finish the thought.  
  
Simultaneously they leaned together and their lips crashed, tongues desperately tasting for what was only their second and they feared was the last time, urgently wanting to memorize the flavor, the feel, the smell of the other. With need for breath they finally parted, but just stood basking in each other’s warm embrace, their foreheads pressed together, moist lips swollen from their desperation.  
  
On a whim Dorian untied his enchanted sash and quickly bound the silk about Kaim’s slim waist. “To protect you and help remember me by,” he said softly.  
  
“I could never forget you,” Kaim promised.  
  
With one last lingering kiss Dorian finally stepped back, removing himself from Kaim’s arms. Both their hearts shattering into small pieces, they regained their mounts, took one last long look at the other, and as the sun broke over the horizon, they turned and rode in opposite directions down the road.  
  
\---  
  
“Dorian,” his father’s voice snapped like lightning as Dorian crossed the hall, refusing to stop. “Where have you been?”  
  
“Disposing of my slave, father. As you demanded,” came the bitter, angry response.  
  
“What did you-”  
  
“What does it matter?!” he finally spun and shouted at his father who stopped in his tracks at the unbridled fury in his son’s face. Never before had he ever seen anything like it, his eyes were red rimmed, somehow he looked more hollow, older, and infinitely more deadly. Smoke literally trailed Dorian’s figure such was his fury. “I got rid of him as you wanted. He will never return. Rejoice, father,” he literally spat the last word. “You won.” With that he turned on his heel and stormed off to his rooms, the pressure of his presence knocked vases off pedestals and shattered glass. The young Pavus passed it all without a care.  
  
His heart was no longer in Tevinter.  
  
It was alone and afraid on the road to the Free Marches.  
  
\---  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaim begins his journey out of Tevinter and Dorian struggles to stay afloat in a country that denies everything that makes him who he is. But now they don't even have one another. How will the two men fare, and will they grow apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COME CLOSER TO ME ALL OF YOU SO I CAN LOVE YOU!!!! Totally in a...platonic...non-creepy way...I promise… really… *clears throat* Seriously, my regular commenters, you all are AWESOME! Valkatra, Wookiecookie, TwistedCubid, VanyyShep, Beawolfs_Pen, Nioell, seenthroughyoureyes, happygirl86, and all you other wonderful commenters! (I’m sorry if I missed someone!) You don't know what your feedback means to me! 
> 
> And a HUGE THANK YOU to Valkatra for beta'ing this chapter for me! Helped me get it out earlier than Friday! <3
> 
> ALSO! Incredible art by the awesome [Nioell](http://nioell.deviantart.com/art/The-Serpent-and-the-Slave-538764105?ga_submit_new=10%253A1433961298) in the chapter!

It wasn’t long before Kaim realized if he were to follow Dorian’s instruction he would need to get rid of the horse. It simply attracted too much attention, especially for an elf riding alone. At the first small trading outpost along the road he sold it for much less than the beast was actually worth to a skeezy man with yellowing teeth, but he couldn’t be picky, just his presence and the transaction was attracting attention. Mostly because he couldn’t go five minutes without bursting into tears.  
  
For the first time in his life he had felt safe. Like he had a legitimate place. Had felt loved.  
  
In one heart shattering moment all that had been ripped away. And he really had no one to blame but himself. Had he not given in to temptation Magister Halward would never have been able to find fault. Oh Halward hated him, he knew that early on, and was likely searching for a reason to get rid of the elf, a reason he so obligingly supplied the magister. A few blissful moments of pleasure now left him with a lifetime of ruin. Stripped away from the one person in his existence that cared for him, alone in a strange world he didn’t really understand, dangers around every corner. And it was all his own fault, what a fool he’d been.  
  
Left sour in his mind, however was the thought that they’d been teetering over the abyss for some time, regardless of consummation of their feelings. It had been a disaster waiting to happen. Even without his caving to desires he doubted they could have continued for long as they had been without Dorian possibly breaking his own oath. That thought helped resolve issues in Kaim’s mind as he trudged along. It was preferable to Kaim that he give in to his own desires and be exiled for them than Dorian cave to temptation and break his promise, such a thing may very well have ruined the young man. That kiss as it was had shattered him to tears, and it had only been one stolen kiss. A night of passion would have broken Dorian. Of the regrets he could have had, he supposed this one was the least damaging, though the separation was already close to crumbling his resolve.  
  
In four years Dorian had never been away from his side for more than a few hours. Even when sleeping they were close to one another. The ache that settled in his chest was suffocating, crushing, and there were moments where it was even difficult to breathe. In a ruined and tangled mess of emotions and pain Kaim collapsed to his knees, hidden in the tall grass and sobbed. Nothing could ever fill that emptiness, nothing was familiar, he was all alone. For a time he actually considered trying to return, throwing himself on Halward’s mercy. This was too much, he couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough.  
  
When the tears subsided he allowed himself to just sit, completely alone, the road over the ridge and out of sight. He listened to the sounds of nature all around him, so foreign. The smell of the dirt, the grass, the caress of the wind on his skin, through his hair.  
  
In one moment of clarity and decisiveness his thoughts melted away and his memories came flooding back. The school in Rivain, his Tevinter assassin training. All emotional and frivolous thoughts submerged so survival instinct kicked in.  
  
He could do this. He had to. Dorian promised he would find him some day. And he had to be alive for this to happen.  
  
All he had was a small, mostly decorative dagger. He would need to either purchase or steal better weaponry.  
  
On foot he shadowed the Imperial Highway, as Dorian had instructed, often clinging to the silk wrapped about his waist, biting back tears despite his best efforts. The art of moving silently was nothing new to Kaim, however all his training had centered within cities on man made ground. Kaim used this opportunity to learn to walk just as silently in the forested areas, to move unseen even through landscape with little cover, attempting to avoid detection even when unneeded, for practice.  
  
No suitable weapons were found for sale, however he managed to pinch two wicked looking daggers from a caravan he passed. They would suffice.  
  
It was a long eight days to the Nevarran border. From there he studied the map and simply struck out across the Silent Plains instead of following the road. A foolish endeavor. Had he not purchased enough supplies he would have died in the attempt. With only the sun to guide him, the Silent Plains was a wasteland, miles and miles of absolutely dry nothing. Two days before he made it to Hasmal he ran out of water.  
  
As it was, when he finally reached Hasmal he was exhausted, out of food and water, and nearly dead. The looks cast his way were odd, who wouldn’t look at the dehydrated, half dead, dirt caked elf with anything but curiosity and disdain? He ignored them and purchased a room and meal for the night. Of all the hardships on his journey thus far, this had been the most difficult, that of sleeping on the ground. In his four years at House Pavus he had become accustomed to the soft bed in his little room. No, it wasn’t Dorian’s mountain of glorious fluff, but it was still very comfortable. The ground was cold, unyielding, unforgiving, and dirty. Kaim would never have called himself obsessively clean before, but his position as the manservant of a noble youth meant he was accustomed to a certain level of cleanliness. The sheer amount of dirt that clung to him was nothing short of absurd.  
  
The next morning found Kaim standing on the edge of the city with a sinking realization: he had no idea where to even begin looking for the Dalish.  
  
When faced with the Free Marches he also realized he had no idea how to navigate a forest, though he now knew how to silently traverse one, or at least as silently as he thought. In despair he simply chose a direction and trudged into the shadowy forest. From the tales he’d read of the Dalish, of which there were very few in Tevinter, he understood that it may be some time before he wandered into country they would occupy. From what he’d garnered they were cautious of humans, and with good reason, therefore he knew he was in for days of travel, likely with no civilization in sight. He continued walking as the sun set, rose and advanced through another cycle. Satisfied he alighted upon a spot in a clearing and sat down cross legged, closed his eyes and just listened.  
  
For hours, possibly even days he simply sat, listening to everything around him, memorizing nuances, distinguishing one sound from another. Cities he knew. The forest was completely foreign to him. For hours he would examine a sound until he was able to identify it to the best of his limited ability.  
  
Daggers were not the best of hunting tools, nor did he have the slightest idea how to even go about stalking animal prey, so when hunger and thirst haunted him he searched for alternate means of sustenance. A river presented itself not far and he managed to spear a fish with a throw of his knife, even through the bubbling water. Fire made, meal eaten, he once again took seat, closed his eyes and listened.  
  
The wind through the trees, the sounds of the animals as they passed, some stopping to watch the strange elf, the sound of the water lapping over the stones. The occasional creak of a tree in the breeze , a stone shifting on the bank, insects buzzing nearby.  
  
For days he continued like this. Some days he went hungry, having found no proper nourishment and unsure which plants were safe for consumption. As a slave before the House of Pavus however he had endured far worse. This he would survive.  
  
One afternoon he sat, stomach aching, eyes closed, exhausted to the point of caring little anymore, all thoughts filled with Dorian’s beautiful face when a new sound presented itself.  
  
Very slowly he opened his eyes and found someone standing twenty meters or so in front of him, barely visible in the shade of the trees. Instinctively his hands fell to his daggers, but otherwise he didn’t move. The figure cocked their head at him. It was another elf. A woman. If he had to guess she was older by quite a bit. Strange tattoos covered her face and she wore odd looking robes. A Dalish perhaps?  
  
“My name is Kaim,” he said slowly. “And I am looking for the Dalish.”  
  
Her head cocked at him again. “My name is Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel. And you have found them.”  
  
\---  
  
In the four years that followed Dorian’s situation only grew more despondent . Despite it all his father was relentless in his pursuit of a wife for his son in addition to vying for political standing for the Pavus family, if his son could only succeed to _Archon_. The more Dorian learned of his plans the farther the rift between them grew. Archons were not appointed, the role was passed on to an heir and since the current _Archon_ had no heir yet his position was precarious. Should he die a new _Archon_ would need to be elected via the Magisterium, as a magister his father would not be considered for the position. Dorian however, depending on his standing with the Magisterium, would be a good candidate.  
  
As an _Altus_ under the patronage of Alexius, with all the good favor of such a powerful magister, Dorian’s reputation was actually quite good, despite his oddities. One such oddity seemed to have disappeared overnight, the beautiful elven slave that had followed him everywhere. The second seemed harder to shake: his absolute aversion to marriage.  
  
With Kaim by his side, his studies in magical theory had flourished, making him one of the most powerful mages in the Imperium, a masterful mortalitasi, and extraordinarily desired. Even women who detested him intensely had attempted to catch his eye at one point or another, not leaving marriage contracts to chance. One by one he staunchly pushed away any and all attempts, leaving most of the upper class bewildered. Even those men he had taken to his bed before had made attempt to sway him in any manner possible, all failed dismally.  
  
The only solace he found was in his study with Alexius, but even that had been tarnished. A year after Kaim departed Alexius’ wife and son were attacked by darkspawn. His wife perished and Felix was left grievously wounded and blighted. Dorian all but lost his patron that day. A year later Alexius approached him about the Venatori. Disgusted, it was the last time Dorian saw Alexius.  
  
With the loss of Kaim his life grew dark and depressing. There was no one he trusted, no one he called friend. Not even the young boy Felix, who was growing into quite an honorable, kind hearted young man, despite the taint. It wasn’t that he didn’t think him worthy. Dorian didn’t have enough left to give. Kaim’s absence left a void in his life that could never be filled. Bitterness overtook him, a burning hatred toward his father and by proxy the Imperium. Change, if anything was changing at all for his efforts, was coming much too slowly.  
  
It comforted him to realize he was not totally alone. Tevinter nobles of varied standings, some even magisters, had taken notice of his efforts and approached him one by one. Always in secret. His ideals were gaining support, but he feared it would not be enough. The overwhelming majority liked Tevinter just as corrupt and built on the backs of slaves as it was now. The atrocities and depravities that reached Dorian’s ears now that he was paying attention appalled and disgusted him. That his countrymen indulged in such baseborn pleasures sickened him.  
  
The days grew darker and darker for him, and little by little he retreated further inside until all he ever showed anyone was the empty mask that consumed most of who he was. The part that loved Kaim, for he admitted it to himself after the elf was gone, was safely wrapped in layers of protection and buried deep inside, guarded by thick sheafs of ice.  
  
Dorian left Kaim’s room exactly as it was when he’d abandoned it in his flight from Tevinter, with the door closed. On the worst nights he would curl up on Kaim’s bed and hug his pillow. For a very long time the elf’s scent lingered, but as with all things eventually it faded. Dorian cried the hardest he ever had in his life the day he realized it was completely gone.  
  
It took two years of bitter fighting with the lower house of the senate, but he finally managed to officially free Kaim in absentia. That night, alone in his rooms he destroyed the ring that signified Kaim’s slavery and drank himself into a stupor in celebration. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks thinking of a man who had probably moved on, found someone else, forgotten all about the master whose heart he’d left Tevinter with.  
  
Kaim was free, but Dorian returned to his gilded cage.  
  
Hundreds of miles away, Kaim sat alone on the edge of the Dalish camp, next to the statue of _Fen’Harel_ , staring at the stars and hugging a strip of silk to his chest, wondering if Dorian thought about him as much as his thoughts rested on the mage, praying to whatever gods would listen for his heart to return to him.  
  
[](http://nioell.deviantart.com/art/The-Serpent-and-the-Slave-538764105?ga_submit_new=10%253A1433961298)  
\---  
  
Fitting in with the Dalish was not an easy road for Kaim. Many of the clan insisted he be turned away when they learned he was an escaped Tevinter slave. Only Keeper Istimaethoriel’s insistence won them over. And Kaim had no idea why. He made a terrible hunter. Once among them he learned his self-taught forest skills were sadly lacking -and here he thought he’d been doing well-, and he had little else to offer the clan. Magical theory he could do. Reading and writing had little place. Math? Even less so. Crafting? Repairing _aravels_? Herding halla? Don’t even ask him about shooting a bow.  
  
And what was with their barefoot trend? Didn’t they realize it was freezing out here? It took months to form proper callouses and he bemoaned what his dance instructor would have said at the state of his feet. Dancers had specific kinds of callouses, not black soles from dirt and callouses even on the arches of their feet! He didn’t care if the other clansmen called him ‘pampered’, he preferred his boots.  
  
The first set of armor hahren had helped him craft had been snubbed by turned up noses. It didn’t look Dalish enough apparently. Sadness had filled him as he had considered his work. It reminded him slightly of home...or...Tevinter wasn’t home specifically...it reminded him of Dorian. And so he wore it anyways. He wasn’t Dalish born, so what did he care? Dalish he may be now, but he couldn’t just forget where he’d come from.  
  
The elders all seemed to take a liking to him and greatly enjoyed the stories he would tell around the campfires in the evening. Most of them were of Tevinter of course, but they were still history, and not many Dalish had accurate histories available to them from the Imperium. The youth of the clan were another matter entirely. His small stature was naturally an area of jest, especially amongst the children. The women his own age had one of two reactions: they thought he was cute and giggled a lot, or they snubbed his small figure. To be honest, he preferred the latter.  
  
But the males of his age group were the worst. Very few of them were kind to him, though he kept to himself and really didn’t much care for their opinions of him, it was the relentless pranking that got on his nerves.  
  
Things came to a head about a year into his clan membership.  
  
An elf by the name of Tamsas had repeatedly done things to make his life miserable, sabotaging his work, leaving small animals and bugs in his aravel, talking snidely behind his back to the other youth of the clan. Kaim had paid him little attention thinking the youth would become bored and move on to another subject, but this was apparently the wrong response to have.  
  
One evening Tamsas and two companions cornered Kaim away from camp. What their intent had been, Kaim wasn’t entirely sure, but the looks they were giving him were none too friendly. There had not been a need for Kaim to display his assassin or dancer skills with the clan, so many of them were still unaware of what his skillset actually was, as a result these three bullies clearly had no idea what they were toying with. He supposed they were only trying to scare him, in the typical mindless way bullies do, but he’d had enough.  
  
Kaim politely asked them to let him pass but when Tamsas flashed the steel of a dagger he spun into action. Before Tamsas could react Kaim kicked him square under the chin, sending him sprawling backward. Daggers slid into Kaim’s hands before his friends could even blink and he lunged forward. He slit both their knife belts before flipping the blades in his hands to neatly slice through the strings of their bows as well. At this point Tamsas was beginning to pick himself up off the ground, but Kaim chose that moment to drop on his chest in a crouch, effectively knocking the breath out of him. Using his chest as a springboard he reversed direction and swept his dagger hilts across the back of Tamsas’ cronies knees, dropping them to the ground even as they scrambled to recover their severed dagger belts.  
  
Kaim’s shoulders hit the ground and he kickflipped to his feet. Casually he snatched up both dagger belts, stepping on Tamsas’ chest as he swaggered by, and grabbing the fallen elf’s knife as well. He flipped it end over end in his hand as he returned to camp with both belts slung over his shoulder.  
  
He mutely smiled at Keeper Istimaethoriel, handed her the dagger belts, then continued on his way to his aravel. The keeper smiled widely and gave the three returning, bruised elves a reproachful look before returning the weapons and sending them on their way.  
  
Most of the comments stopped after that, though many of the elves also kept their distance. Kaim didn’t mind. All his thoughts were still centered around a certain Tevinter _Altus_.  
  
The second year into his clanship with the Dalish Tamsas actually approached him, though he didn't apologize he called a sort of truce between the two of them. Over the ensuing months they became close friends and his relationship with the clan improved.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim ignored the giggling of two clanswomen as they passed by Tamsas and his fire. The larger elf glanced up at the two females and winked before turning his attention back to his dark haired friend.  
  
“Since joining Lavellan you’ve shown absolutely zero interest in anyone. You realize everyone is talking right? You passed your hunter trials. You have your vallaslin now,” he chuckled when Kaim winced and touched the still healing marks on his face. “You do know that part of supporting the clan is procreation right?” the elf joked and was slightly surprised by Kaim’s pensive expression.  
  
“I...actually hadn’t thought much about it…” Kaim mumbled miserably. How was he going to get out of this? He simply wasn’t attracted to women, and there was no way he was marrying when he was waiting for Dorian.  
  
Tamsas paused a moment to consider Kaim’s expression and examine his behavior. The shorter man hadn’t seemed interested in anyone at all. It didn’t seem like he even looked at girls like the other guys did. That could only mean one thing.  
  
“You left someone behind in Tevinter, didn’t you?” he asked intuitively.  
  
Kaim’s head snapped up and Tamsas grinned. Well, that was a resounding YES.  
  
“Tell me about her!” he scooted closer and Kaim practically shrank away.  
  
“I...uh...no, t-thank you. I really would rather not…”  
  
“Oh, come on, I bet she’s manly considering how pretty you are!” he laughed at his own joke and Kaim flushed. If only his friend knew. Tamsas was attractive in his own way, but nothing compared to Dorian. The bigger elf had shaggy blonde hair, shaved on the sides and left unruly on the top, skin a rich sepia, and eyes almost the color of deep emeralds. His face was angular, hollow in the cheeks and squared to his chin, with a long straight nose, and thin but expressive lips. To anyone else he might have been called stunning.  
  
“I don’t-” Kaim didn’t even know what to say.  
  
“Aw, just gimme a name then!” Tamsas elbowed him and Kaim rubbed his abused ribs.  
  
“Really...it’s…” Kaim sighed and flicked his ponytail over his shoulder uncomfortably. Only then did it occur to Tamsas that something awful might have happened.  
  
“Oh...am I bringing up something painful? I’m sorry, I’ll drop it if you want,” he studied the saddened and almost hopeless expression on his friend’s face a moment.  
  
Kaim sighed again sadly. “Thank you.” It had been almost three years, yet he couldn’t help still hoping that Dorian would find him. At every human outpost he checked for signs of the Tevinter mage. Clan Lavellan made frequent stops in human towns, they believed heavily in cooperation and looked down on the use of the term _shemlen_ , which was helpful in his search. Kaim had no way of leaving Dorian any messages in those towns, but he always discreetly checked with the taverns and inns, knowing if Dorian had been seen he would have left an impression.  
  
For a moment Kaim felt like he couldn’t breathe and he stood swiftly and walked into the forest. Tamsas stood to follow him, but thought better of it, and just watched him disappear into the darkness with sad eyes.  
  
Once out of sight Kaim pulled the silk sash from underneath his rogue belt and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in the fabric and choking back sobs. It was almost unbearable not knowing anything. If Dorian had moved on he’d rather know about it. This...waiting was killing him. Each time he’d enter an inn or tavern hope would spark a little bit only to be dashed. How much longer could he keep this up before there was nothing left?  
  
Sinking to a sitting position against a tree he pulled the silk back from his face and tenderly wiped at the tear stains on the fabric. It had long ago stopped smelling like Dorian, but just holding it he could still imagine the way he smelled, how he tasted, the way his skin felt. Every night he imagined each of Dorian’s features, determined not to let the memories fade. Had Dorian changed at all? Did he finally cut his hair?  
  
The thought brought a sad chuckle from him. He’d never gotten around to cutting Dorian’s hair. His tears renewed and he buried his face in the cloth again.  
  
\---  
  
Months passed and winter became spring, bringing with it the emotional swell of fertility and Kaim’s irritability.  
  
Tamsas pulled him aside one evening.  
  
“Kaim, the _hahren_ wanted me to talk to you,” he began hesitantly.  
  
The smaller elf’s shoulders almost looked like they collapsed. “It’s about Rinae, isn’t it?”  
  
Tamsas nodded. “You didn’t even give her a chance-”  
  
Kaim’s sigh interrupted him. “Tamsas...I...I can’t!” he ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“Kaim, I know you’ve got someone in Tevinter, but it’s been three years. I don’t know what happened...if they died you need to move on. If you left them behind then they aren’t coming for you. Even if they did, the probability of them finding one particular nomadic Dalish clan…”  
  
Kaim sank to a sitting position with a groan . “I know...but that’s not the only reason I turned her down…” he glanced off to the side uncomfortably.  
  
Tamsas sat down beside him. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Kaim nodded. “So, what’s going on?” Ideas flew through Tamsas’ mind that maybe Kaim was damaged? Tevinter Magisters were supposed to do horrific things to their slaves, and...he hadn’t ever really seen Kaim naked. The elf was fastidiously prude. Most of the other males bathed together in a group, but Kaim never joined them. When Tamsas had learned of a lady friend he’d thought he’d discovered the reason, but now...maybe it was something else? His imagination ran wild.  
  
“I’m…” Kaim sighed in resignation. “Please, don’t tell anyone this, promise me?” his eyes finally met Tamsas’ sternly.  
  
“Of course. I promise,” he replied feelingly.  
  
“You asked me...her name. Well...it’s Dorian Pavus,” he studied Tamsas’ face for a reaction.  
  
“Wait...Dorian is a guy’s name, right?”  
  
Kaim nodded.  
  
“And Pavus is a Tevinter name, right?”  
  
He nodded again.  
  
“So...you’re gay?”  
  
Those blue green eyes rolled and he nodded once more.  
  
“And...what? In love with…”  
  
“My master, yes.”  
  
“I...don’t even know what to say to that.”  
  
“Exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Kaim threw his hands up.  
  
Tamsas held out his own placatingly. “I get it. Trust me, I understand. I...that IS a tough situation. Well...you realize being gay isn’t exactly taboo amongst the clans, right?”  
  
Kaim shook his head.  
  
“It’s not. It’s just that they’re still expected to marry and produce children. Who they have sex with on the side is the business of their wife and their other partner. Some marry simply to have children and they both have a partner of the same gender on the side. It’s not unheard of.”  
  
Kaim rolled this information over in his head.  
  
“I...suppose...I mean...I’ve never...I don’t even LOOK at women!” Kaim blurted out in frustration.  
  
Tamsas laughed. “Oh, whew...I was imagining some horrible situation in which a magister had cut off your dick or something and THAT’S why you weren’t interested in anyone! OOOoookay! THIS we can deal with!”  
  
Kaim raised an eyebrow at him like he’d lost his mind.  
  
“Trust me. I’ll be discreet about this, but I’ll start asking around Lavellan and the other clans nearby, see if we can’t find something to help you out,” Tamsas promised him, patting his shoulder.  
  
“But...I don’t WANT help figuring it out...I want…”  
  
“Dorian? He must be one hell of a guy,” he gave his friend a lopsided smile.  
  
“He is,” Kaim smiled the cutest, most infatuated smile Tamsas had ever seen before and he sighed with a smile of his own.  
  
“Worth waiting three years for?”  
  
“Worth waiting a lifetime for,” Kaim said firmly.  
  
\---  
  
"Dorian," the young Pavus flinched visibly, his father never used anything other than a biting tone with him anymore. "I have been informed you are participating in debates on Tevinter reform."  
  
Dorian rolled his eyes. "Yes, father. I have been meeting with a rather large group of magisters and nobles." It wasn't something he'd exactly been hiding from Halward, but he knew his father's stance. Though the Pavus family did not participate in some of the baser atrocities the household still relied heavily on the ownership of slaves. Their finances and household structure would need to change drastically if they were forced to begin paying their slaves equivalent wages of free servants.  
  
Of course most of their slaves did still earn a wage, but it was pittance compared to paid servants.  
  
"Why must you insist on being contrary?" Halward sighed in exasperation.  
  
"Why just to raise your ire, father. Weren't you aware? I have no further ambition in life than to simply annoy you," Dorian couldn't even finish his meal and he dropped his napkin on the table, pushing his chair back and standing.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Halward demanded.  
  
"I have a meeting to attend, and the meal's company is sadly lacking. I remember now why I never eat in the dining hall anymore. If you will excuse me, father," he bowed mockingly. "Mother," he inclined his head and she returned the gesture.  
  
Head held high Dorian strode from the room.  
  
"Your legacy dies with him," Dorian's mother lifted her wine delicately and sipped, ignoring Halward's judging glare. His son was a failure and his wife, the lady Aquinea, was a drunk. What had he done to upset the Maker so?  
  
"It will not. I will not let it," Halward snapped, shoving his plate away in disdain.  
  
"What? You'll convince him NOT to enjoy the company of men over women? You can't even stop him from speaking with reformists. What hope do you have of changing the boy's desires?" She sniffed snidely, took up her wine glass and gracefully stood, leaving her husband to his thoughts.  
  
The magister sat for a few long moments, a debate heavy in his mind. Slowly he pushed back from the table and retired to his study. The door closed with a soft click and he leaned back heavily against it. What hope do you have of changing the boy's desires?  
  
Halward pushed off the door and crossed the room slowly, his eyes fixed on a specific book shelf. With trembling hands he pulled out a section of books and reached into the shadows behind. When his hand retracted he held an old, leather bound, well-worn book. Staring at it as though it might bite him he carried it across the room to his desk and sat down, laying it on the surface before him.  
  
A deep, cleansing breath filled his lungs and he opened the blood magic tome.  
  
\---  
  
It was late when Dorian finally returned to the Pavus mansion and he was thankful the halls were deserted as he made his way to his own wing. The last thing he needed was another confrontation with his father. Tiredly he trudged his way through the magically lit halls, his thoughts full of glittering blue green eyes and his sweet elf's face.  
  
The door to his room opened and darkness greeted him, immediately putting him on edge. The magical lamps were ALWAYS on in his room. He discreetly cast an enchantment and found his secret wards had been broken.  
  
Someone was in his room.  
  
His hesitation only lasted a split second; he didn't want to alert his intruder of his knowledge of their presence, so he sighed loudly to cover the casting of a resistance spell and he shuffled, feigning fatigue, moving further into the room. Loudly he grumbled about the stupid lamps while his eyes scanned for runes, traps, or the actual intruder.  
  
A chill ran up his spine and he stopped in his tracks. One hand waved and he cast a reveal spell, the floor shimmered and a rune circle appeared. A blood circle. His toe dragged a smear of crimson across the stone as he stepped back again, horrified.  
  
A gasp escaped him when the air around him shimmered and he felt his whole body stiffen in paralysis.  
  
"You just couldn't let this be simple, could you? Everything has to be a fight with you," Dorian's eyes widened as his father finally emerged from the shadows. His own father was using blood magic against him?! "I have tried everything. I've bargained, reasoned, threatened, cajoled, bribed, tried to guilt you...all for naught. You will fulfill your family obligations, whether it is your own desire, or whether I have to MAKE it your desire. You WILL."  
  
Halward moved behind his son to push the immobile young man into the blood circle. Since Dorian had cast the resistance spell and had enough of an enchantment in his robes he was able to break Halward's freeze spell prematurely.  
  
The spell burst around him and Halward stumbled back in shock.  
  
"What?! No!-"  
  
Expert hands flew through the motions and an ice barrier erected through the circle, ruining it. With an angry shout his father began to cast, pulling a large vial from his belt, uncorking it and draining the blood into the air before him. What poor sod had his father drained for that blood?  
  
His thoughts were shoved away as he concentrated and cast a cold snap spell, as Alexius had taught him. The blood froze in the air and was no longer a viable source of power for his father.  
  
The magister snarled in rage and backhanded the floating, frozen blood away. "Why won't you just-"  
  
"What were you trying to do, father?!" Despite his best efforts his voice trembled with emotion and he gestured wildly at the blood circle behind him. "What were you trying to accomplish here by ambushing me with blood magic?! The last resort of a weak mind! Is THAT what you've been reduced to?! In your flailing for more power? For more influence? For your Maker damned legacy?!"  
  
"It is YOUR fault! YOU will not fall in line! I was trying to FIX you!" the magister snarled and Dorian's eyes widened. "I was trying to purge your perversion! It is YOU with the weak mind!"  
  
"You were trying to...to fix me? CURE my preference for men? What if you had left me a drooling, mindless husk instead? What if the spell had gone wrong? Or worse...succeeded. The only successful spells of mental manipulation are known to leave the subject completely broken. You would do this to your only son?" Dorian felt something break inside.  
  
"I would. And I would do it again!" his father ground out. "My son is lost to me regardless. The loss of you physically would be inconsequential. At least I would have TRIED."  
  
The young mage fell back a step. Their relationship had not been good for over a decade...but this?  
  
"Get out."  
  
Halward stiffened, incensed by Dorian's tone.  
  
"Get out," he repeated. "Or I WILL kill you. Regardless of the consequences," his voice was devoid of all emotion and the magister hesitated a moment.  
  
"You couldn't-"  
  
"You think? Would you care to test just how strong my skills in mortalitasi have become?" He stared at his father dispassionately and actually caused Halward pause.  
  
"This is not over-" the magister promised.  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
\---  
  
The next day Dorian did not appear for breakfast, which did not surprise Halward. The boy was obviously upset. But then he did not send a servant to the kitchen to fetch food either.  
  
Aquinea knew something was amiss between the two men, but her husband was being stubbornly tight lipped, which usually meant it was his own fault. When Dorian did not send for lunch either she became fed up and stormed her way into Dorian's suite.  
  
"Dorian! What is going on? Your father is being ridicu-" when the door flung open she stopped short. The room was entirely dark and the curtains were pulled.  
  
"Really, Dorian! Enough of this nonsense! You are a grown man!" She snapped her fingers and the magical lights flared to life. No one was there. The room was empty. The bed was made, but no servant had entered, so that meant it hadn't been slept in. Her eyes fell to his study desk, drawers were left standing open, emptied. His grimoire was gone, as were his enchanted mage robes, his staff, supplies from his desk, and from the way his bureau drawers and closet were left open he’d also taken a few sets of clothing.  
  
Dorian had left.  
  
The most disturbing part of his room however, was the clearly dried puddle in the middle of the floor. A pool of watered down blood.  
  
“Halward!” she slammed open the door of his study, fury lit in her eyes. “What in the abyss did you do?!”  
  
“How dare-!”  
  
“Dorian is gone!”  
  
Halward blinked a few times. “What do you mean-?”  
  
“He’s gone, Halward! He packed a bag and he left, presumably during the night,” her fists rest on her hips and she glared at him. “Now, I’ll ask you again...What. Did. You. Do? There was blood left on the floor,” her eyes narrowed at him when he slumped into his chair.  
  
“During our talk yesterday at breakfast I realized you were right, our son’s nature was not going to change on its own. If left as they were we were never going to have grandchildren. So...I took matters into my own hands,” he wouldn’t look at his wife.  
  
“You didn’t-” she breathed, completely appalled. Dorian may have been an asset that they used relentlessly, but that didn’t change the fact that for all his faults, he was still her only son.  
  
“I tried and failed,” Halward rubbed the space between his eyes with two fingers. “Apparently he is much better educated than I thought. He was prepared, and he nullified my spell.”  
  
“Good boy,” she crossed her arms and glared at Halward.  
  
“What?! How could you say that?!” He returned her glare in earnest.  
  
“What? Would I rather you succeeded and left my son a drooling, vacant mess? I would have killed you myself. Dorian saved your life. Be grateful to your man-loving genius of a son,” Aquinea told him dryly.  
  
Halward glared at her, mostly because he knew she was the more powerful mage. If she had wanted to kill him it was probably a fight he would not have won. Damn, was he really the weak mage in the family now?  
  
“Now what?” she asked, throwing her hands up in dismay. “We have no idea how long he’s been gone, where he may have run off to, and no way to track him!” Her glare was significant.  
  
“He will be back,” Halward waved a hand dismissively. “He is a nobleman’s son. Never experienced a day of hardship in his entire life. Give it a week, he’ll come crawling back once the meager amount of gold he took with him runs out. I’ll be sure to let the inns and taverns in town know he’s not welcome and is not to use the Pavus name to build a tab.”  
  
“And if he’s left Minrathous?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“He won’t. He’s never traveled alone on the road. Think about it. All we ever do is take the boat back and forth from here to our Qarinus estates,” he seemed completely convinced of his son’s inability to navigate Thedas on his own.  
  
“So, let me get this straight,” she sighed and rested her forehead against her knuckles. “You doubted your son’s magical ability and he defeated you. He outsmarted your trap. You yourself have stated he’s a brilliant young man...but somehow you’re doubting him NOW?” She raised her eyes and gave him a deadpan stare.  
  
“Common sense and book smarts are two entirely different things. He’s too pampered to leave the city. Trust me.”  
  
\---  
  
Everything ached and these miscreants had no idea who they were dealing with. Then again his clothes were dirty and he looked so grungy that when he finally found a mirror he realized he didn’t recognize himself anymore.  
  
His poor mustache.  
  
“Fine! I’ll take whatever you have,” he finally caved. All he wanted was to sleep in a bed and get some of the caked on dirt cleaned off. Weeks of travel and he’d finally reached Nevarra. He’d learned very quickly to be extremely stingy with his gold. And to hide it in his boot. Both boots. And split another small portion in other various places hidden on his person. But also to keep a small amount in an obvious coin purse on his belt. Not that he hadn’t defeated his fair share of would-be bandits, mind you, but he was no fool.  
  
The unattractive owner of the inn flicked her eyes up and down his figure unabashedly and he suppressed a shiver of disgust before she finally turned and led him to his rented room for the night. It was no where near what he was used to, but it had a bed, a water basin, and it was private. To be honest, it was heaven.  
  
Mind made up, he decided once he reached Kirkwall he was going to treat himself and buy a few necessities. Like mustache wax. And a bath.  
  
For now, he would make due with the tiny water basin and a bed likely infested with fleas.  
  
A sad sigh escaped him. This was the same route he’d forced Kaim on four years ago. Poor Kaim who’d never known anything but slavery his whole life, alone and afraid. His inquiries in Nevarra had revealed there was one particular Dalish clan who frequented human villages, particularly Kirkwall. Apparently due to the Champion of Kirkwall’s good relations with another Dalish clan that wandered near there they also had a good relationship with the city.  
  
Finding them was as good as any other place to start. Unfortunately a Tevinter noble looking for a Dalish clan raised eyebrows and not in a good way.  
  
It was such a shame he was only passing through Nevarra and that the Grand Necropolis was in the opposite direction. Not that he looked presentable at the moment anyways. His mage robes were dirty almost to the point of being ruined, and every article of clothing in his pack hadn’t been washed in weeks. In Kirkwall, he promised himself, he’d pay to have everything cleaned.  
  
More weeks passed and through an eternity of walking and hitching rides in caravans Dorian finally arrived in Kirkwall. The City of Chains was much better than before, but they were still not very hospitable to mages, so he wore his nobleman’s clothes with his mage robes tucked safely in his pack, although the staff was still a bit on the obvious side, there wasn’t much he could do about it.  
  
Though he needn't have worried overly much. The entire city was buzzing with news. There had been an explosion at the Conclave.  
  
Dorian could hardly believe it. Apparently the entire leadership of the Ferelden and Orlais Chantry had been there, as well as most of the upper echelon of the Templar order, and many other high ranking officials. Some even from Tevinter. They were all dead.  
  
Unseen he made his way through the city and was quickly lost. Thinking he was about to be robbed at any moment he turned another corner and found himself standing in a strange looking quarter. There was a huge tree that grew in the center of the plaza and there were odd decorations everywhere. A small group of elves walked by, talking amongst themselves, not noticing the lost human and he quickly realized this must be Kirkwall’s elven alienage.  
  
“Hello!” A chipper voice in his ear startled him and he would never admit that he squeaked and whirled around, staff before him like some sort of barrier. A tiny little elf woman stood before him, odd green tattoos on her face, short brown hair sticking out all over the place, large forest green eyes sparkled up at him, and her smile was enormous.  
  
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Her accent was like nothing he’d heard before. “Are you lost?” She cocked her head and stared up at him.  
  
“I...yes, I suppose I am,” he admitted, glancing around then back at this tiny elf woman.  
  
“You have a different accent,” she giggled.  
  
“As do you,” he wasn’t able to stop his own smile, this little pixie was much too happy.  
  
“I suppose I do,” she admitted. “I can help you find your way back if you like? Varric always teased me about getting lost. Told me I needed to carry a ball of thread so I could find my way back,” her grin was infectious.  
  
“That’s not a bad idea,” he nodded, feeling like an idiot for smiling so much at someone he’d just met. “I am Dorian, by the way.”  
  
“Merrill!” she chirped and accepted his outstretched hand, pumping it with much more strength than he’d have attributed to such a small thing.  
  
“Are you…? Please excuse me if this is rude, but...are you...Dalish?” he asked, eyeing her facial tattoos again.  
  
“I am! Proud member of clan Sabrae, the same clan the Hero of Ferelden came from!” she grinned.  
  
“Oh, well then, perhaps you CAN help me.” Hope grew in his chest. “I’m looking for one particular elf.”  
  
She was already shaking her head. “If you’re looking for a Dalish clan then you might be out of luck. They travel a lot. Some do stop by here, but they’re cautious. Templars don’t take kindly to their freedom with magic. You’ll never find them unless you have someone who can contact them. What’s their name? Are they a part of clan Sabrae?” She led him through the plaza to a little, rundown shack on one side.  
  
“His name is Kaim. He would have joined up with a clan less than four years ago,” he explained, cocking an eyebrow when she opened the door for him.  
  
“Come in! Rest for a bit!” She bustled around him, cleaning up the meager hovel and straightening things. “I’m sorry, I don’t entertain often! Ugh, it’s always such a mess. _Fen’Harel_ take it! It’s never this dirty usually!” she insisted as she hurried around.  
  
“Please, do not put yourself out on my behalf-” he started uncomfortably.  
  
“Would you like a drink? I have water...and…”  
  
“Water’s fine!” he smiled placatingly. Honestly it was just nice to have a decent conversation with someone. He was beginning to feel like the anti-social hobo he was sure he appeared to be.  
  
“Okay! Anyways, back to what we were talking about. Kaim doesn’t sound familiar. He didn’t join my clan. But there are a few others that roam the Free Marches,” she paused halfway to bringing him his glass of water. “Wait!” she tapped her chin. “That elf that survived the Conclave. He was from a clan in the Free Marches...oh...which one was it...Lavellan!” she said excitedly, almost spilling the water. “He would be a good place to start! I believe he was supposed to be gathering information then reporting back to his clan. He’d have a way of contacting them. Once you find them, they should be able to lead you to the other clans in the area.” She finally handed him the water, which he accepted gratefully.  
  
“This is the best plan I’ve heard yet,” he told her after obligingly taking a sip. “This elf...Lavellan, you said? He is in Ferelden?”  
  
She nodded. “He attended the Conclave and was supposedly the only survivor. They’re keeping him at Haven.”  
  
“I see…” he said slowly. “Tell me, I’ve been out of contact with society for a while. What other news have you heard?”  
  
He stayed with Merrill for a few days and she eagerly showed him how to wash and mend his clothes. Reluctantly they finally said goodbye and she walked him to the harbor. The last of his money had been spent on food, mustache wax, and his passage to Jader as it was the closest port to Haven. When he arrived in Jader he quickly realized that without money he would very likely starve before getting anywhere. With resigned sadness he sold his family amulet to a shady Orlesian fellow whose smile was entirely too creepy behind his silly mask.  
  
However, the more he heard while dining in Jader the more he was realizing it may not be such a wise idea to head directly to Haven. It was crawling with Templars and this...elf was being called the Herald of Andraste.  
  
But he HAD heard that Alexius had suddenly shown up in Redcliff right after the Conclave, and conveniently convinced the rogue mages there to indenture themselves to the Imperium. Something wasn’t right.  
  
\---  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is changing around Kaim, will he be able to keep up with it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I posted this a little late. I meant to have it out this morning, but life got in my way. Hope you all enjoy and don't forget to comment!

Awesome fanart Haitious did of Kaim! [ ](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/120650567200/haitious-working-on-new-techniques-for-faces)

The amount of pounding his head was doing currently seemed ungodly and completely uncalled for. Nothing in this world should warrant such a thing. He’d been drunk off some terrible, cheap Tevinter wines before, and he could tell you, nothing compared to this throbbing ache.  
  
Shooting pain lanced through his hand next and brought him further to wakefulness, regretting every moment he was conscious. What god did he piss off to deserve this?  
  
It took all his waning effort, but he finally managed to coax some movement from his stiff limbs and discovered his hands did not move easily. They felt heavy and cold, so he laid there a few moments, just allowing the sensations to pierce the annoying, fuzzy, cotton like throb in his head. That aggravating, echoing drip that seemed to rattle in his brain with each patter helped explain why his hands and feet felt so cold.  
  
Finally he mustered the strength to roll slightly onto his back with a pitiful groan. A heavy, resounding clank met his sensitive ears. That coupled with the numbing weight on his wrists and stomach brought his world suddenly and sharply into pinpoint clarity.  
  
He was shackled.  
  
"What in the thrice cursed abyss is going on?!" Cassandra snarled, now able to hear the commotion inside the cell as she burst into the dungeon.  
  
"We have no idea!" The head templar sounded exasperated. "One moment he seemed like he might be coming to and the next he was screaming like he'd gone mad, pulling at the shackles as though possessed. We tried to subdue him to prevent him from harming himself but he wouldn't let anyone get close. He almost broke Hargren's neck with his legs."  
  
Cassandra raised her eyebrow at that.  
  
"Open the cell." She quickly ducked into the space, already alarmed by the sounds of the slight elf screaming, only to find the sight even more disturbing.  
  
He was pressed as far as the chains would allow, pulling on the irons as though they were burning him, his eyes were screwed shut, tan skin coated in sweat, and he looked terrified.  
  
This was a full blown panic attack, if ever she saw one. And it likely had to do with being shackled.  
  
"Maker's breath..." Leliana breathed from next to her. "What is he doing?"  
  
Without answering she came forward, removing the key from her pocket.  
  
"Is that wise? We don't know how dangerous he is," the spy master asked, eyeing the elf.  
  
"We won't ever find out if he passes out again, or hurts himself." She wasn't worried, both women were armored and they were locked in. He couldn't go anywhere.  
  
Cautiously she knelt before him. "I am going to unlock your shackles. Will you remain still long enough for me to do so?" she asked him and he nodded frantically. Moving slowly, as though dealing with a wild animal, she sidled forward and unlocked the heavy shackles that bound him to the cell floor. As each dropped away he kicked them, his desperation to get them as far from him as possible obvious. Once freed he scrambled backward, flailing and fumbling in his attempt to put distance between him and the offending metal.  
  
“I need you to calm down,” Cassandra told him, worried by just how deeply he was hyperventilating. The elf frantically stripped off his gloves and shoved everything on his wrists off until his flesh was finally bared. His breathing did not slow until he could see his skin once more. He curled into the corner between the stone and the cell bars, alternating holding his wrists, his unusual eyes glittering out at them from the darkness.  
  
“Look, we’ve got a lot of questions you will need to answer, but for right now I need you to breathe deeply with me,” Cassandra encouraged him. If ever she saw an abuse victim before she was definitely looking at one right now. Even in the dim light she was able to pick out the faint lines on his wrists and knew something terrible had happened in this man’s past. Already doubts were beginning to form in her mind as to whether or not this prisoner was actually guilty. He appeared confused and frightened.  
  
The Breach pulsed and the elf cried out, protectively clutching the green glowing palm against his abdomen.  
  
"W-what...what's happening to me?!" He began to hyperventilate again.  
  
Definitely not the one who caused all this. Cassandra sighed and knelt in front of him, just out of reach.  
  
“That is what we are trying to figure out. Please, breathe with me. Despite how it may look we are not going to hurt you.” For the next few minutes Leliana watched patiently while Cassandra walked him through a breathing exercise and the elf slowly calmed down.  
  
“Now. Please tell me your name, then start from the beginning. Tell me everything you remember about the Conclave.”  
  
\---  
  
Too much was happening too quickly, things were rapidly spiraling out of his control, and Kaim now loathed that feeling. After experiencing freedom for four years he had learned what it felt like to be master of his own destiny, now that was being taken away and he resented it. Oh, it wasn’t slavery, but it was a loss of freedom nonetheless. Cassandra left him no choice, he followed her or he would likely be killed on the spot. And if he DID manage to get away the mark may just kill him anyway.  
  
And so he followed. Resignedly. Unhappily. Moodily. Resentfully. But he still did.  
  
The appearance of Varric and hearing the dwarf’s situation helped a little, at least he wasn’t alone in this. But it was a very little, and did nothing for the pain in his hand. Kaim listened to the group’s banter with only half an ear, brooding sullenly in silence as they fought their way toward the rift under the Breach.  
  
Green light ripped across the sky like malevolent lightning and Kaim cried out, driven to his knees in pain. He gripped his wrist as the mark sputtered wildly, unstably, and his grip did nothing to stop the pain surging up his arm, tearing at his chest. Fingers of agony forced themselves along his veins, with each beat of his heart it felt like his body was drawing the magic deeper, pulling it steadily toward his heart. In dismay he watched the mark cut farther across his palm, widening just slightly.  
  
“If you are to survive this we must get you to the Breach as quickly as possible, before it expands beyond repair,” Solas said quietly, laying a hand on his right shoulder in a small show of support.  
  
The sky calmed, the pulse receded, and Kaim felt the pain ebb, enough for him to stagger back to his feet. Brow furrowed he stared at it critically, turning his palm over several times to look at the tear in his hand from different angles, only half paying attention as he followed behind Cassandra.  
  
The mark was...odd. He’d never felt magic this way before, it felt like a literal hole had been burrowed through his palm, but it didn’t lead to the physical world. It almost felt like if he pushed hard enough on the green glowing skin that he could push his finger straight through and actually into the fade. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Every time the Breach pulsed, or when he used the mark to close a rift he could feel it pulling, sense the actual strings of the fade, like threads. With a flick of his wrist the mark in his hand pulled on those threads, sealing the rift in a drawstring type motion.  
  
Oh, if only Dorian were here. If there was anyone who could figure this damn thing out it was him. Experimentally he flexed his palm, watching the glowing skin bend and pull, he could feel it under his skin, like a parasitic growth. When the Breach was calm he could feel it pulsing gently, a heartbeat of its own, thrumming to a rhythm he was unable to comprehend, and it ached like a cramp just on the cusp of becoming a full blown spasm. But without magic of his own to command there was little else he could do to research it. Perhaps if he had access to the Pavus library, maybe he could find something to help explain why a HOLE IN THE FADE had decided to attach itself to his palm. From his studies he knew enough about the fade and its properties to have an idea what this was, just no thoughts on how to fix or get rid of it.  
  
“You are Dalish,” Solas’ voice drew him from his internal grumbling.  
  
“Did the vallaslin give me away?” He muttered unhelpfully, resisting the urge to wince when Solas blinked at him a few times. It wasn’t Solas’ fault, there was no reason to be rude to the other elf, he simply had a hard time tamping down on his overwhelming frustration and irritation at this whole situation.  
  
“I have wandered many roads in my time, and I have crossed paths with Dalish on more than one occasion,” the apostate said pointedly and Kaim raised a quizzical eyebrow.  
  
“Clearly it wasn’t my clan if I’m interpreting your use of the words ‘crossed paths’ correctly,” Kaim drawled slightly, his face pinched in a disapproving smirk. He knew how some Dalish clans reacted to “flat ears,” which was how they would view Solas.  
  
“I meant that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition,” the haughty tone in Solas’ voice rubbed Kaim wrong. Just wait til Solas realized he knew more of Tevinter than the Dalish.  
  
“Can’t you elves just play nice for once?” Varric asked in an amused, longsuffering tone.  
  
“Of course not, Varric. Why do you think there were so many Exalted Marches?” Kaim muttered. Varric snorted when Cassandra gave Kaim an incredulous and uncomfortable look over shoulder. Okay, maybe it was time to bite his tongue for a little. If he still wanted to avoid that execution anyways.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim woke with a start, shot into a sitting position, and yelped loudly when he came face to face with a female elf.  
  
She dropped her bundle with a crash and screamed at him in surprise.  
  
He screamed back and fell off the opposite side of the bed. Bed? He wasn't in a cell? He wasn't chained! This was good. He could deal with this. His clothes were different. Not so good. Someone had stripped him.  
  
Right. There was a panicking woman in his room. His room? Where was he? And why was SHE panicking? If anyone should be panicking it should be him!  
  
Flailing gracefully he managed to pull himself back up onto the bed. She was bowing now. Oh gods, she was face down on the floor. Why was she bowing? Had the world suddenly gone mad? First they want to kill him and now she's bowing.  
  
He started to panic again.  
  
No one should be bowing to him! Oh gods, where's Tamsas? He needs Tamsas, he'd be able to make sense of all this.  
  
The elf woman was mumbling something. About going to tell Cassandra? Oh, right. The Seeker woman. The one who was there after he'd awoken. Awoken...after...  
  
Jumbled thoughts began to sort themselves out. Since waking up no one had given him even a moment to think, let alone absorb what had actually happened. He'd been accused of killing everyone at the Conclave, then was dragged all over creation closing rifts with this THING in his hand, killing demons, and...and...  
  
He'd been accused of killing everyone at the Conclave.  
  
Everyone who had attended the Conclave was dead. Everyone but him.  
  
Tamsas.  
  
No.  
  
The woman let herself out but he hardly noticed, fingers closed around the blankets on the bed in a vice like grip and his whole world seemed to tilt. Tamsas was dead. No, not Tamsas too. Not this, please not this.  
  
As though in some nightmare his mind begged to awaken from he found his leathers cleaned and folded on the nearby chest and quickly donned them, strapping his daggers to his back.  
  
Crossing the room in a daze he opened the door.  
  
Then just as quickly closed it.  
  
There was a mob outside.  
  
Oh gods they were going to kill him. Nothing for it but to meet his end with dignity.  
  
Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and reopened the door. The crowd of people were staring at his door in confusion, but they immediately cheered when he appeared again.  
  
Oh. So they weren't here to kill him? He was so confused.  
  
With an awkward smile plastered on his face he made his way through the throngs of people, many of whom murmured "Herald" as he sidled past. Whatever that meant.  
  
Instead of heading to the Chantry like that female elf had been jabbering on about he headed to the gates. The same gates Cassandra had taken him through before.  
  
The journey to the temple was a much easier one this time without demons raining down on his head, though he barely noticed, all his thoughts were consumed by one thing. It appeared their plan had worked, at least somewhat. The Breach looked stable, from the reactions of the people in Haven and they were celebrating him for doing it. Kaim felt like he was going to vomit.  
  
As if in a trance he traced his steps back into the section of the temple where the frozen statues were. The victims who weren't burnt away to ash, gnarled testaments to the violence of the explosion. There weren't any elf statues as far as he could tell, but they were burnt beyond recognition, there was no identifying them. And his memory was blank, so he had no idea where they had been standing.  
  
Now that he had a moment to stand still and consider all that had happened the guilt was overwhelming. It washed over him like a blood stained tide, suffocating each shuddered breath, full to the brim, sinking down into the blackness until not even the light above was visible. It gripped his chest with bone shattering strength, closed his throat with icy fingers, slithered into his heart and constricted.  
  
First he'd lost Dorian. Now Tamsas.  
  
Kaim cursed the Keeper's decision to send his best friend with him. At first it had seemed a boon, his own anxiety had been through the roof, knowing Tevinter nobles might be there, the crowds of people, the unfamiliar faces. All he'd experienced since joining the Dalish were small human villages and towns. This had been more crowded.  
  
With Tamsas by his side it was alright. He knew it would be okay.  
  
But now Tamsas was dead, killed in the explosion.  
  
Why him? Why couldn't Tamsas have lived instead? Kaim was worthless to the clan anyways. At least Tamsas was a brilliant hunter, a skilled craftsman, and had planned on having a family.  
  
Kaim didn't even have Dorian. And now he'd lost the one true friend he'd made. Tears flowed freely and he crumpled to his knees, staring in abject misery at the thrice cursed mark on his hand, a watery green blur through his tears.  
  
What was it the Dalish said? Fen'Harel take this stupid mark!  
  
A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his internal screaming.  
  
"You knew someone here?" Cassandra asked gently. The Seeker had been kind to him from the moment he'd come down from his panic attack, but she was very aloof and distant.  
  
He nodded. "I did not attend the Conclave alone," was all he said. When he did not elaborate he felt Cassandra's hand squeeze slightly.  
  
“May they walk in peace by the Maker’s side,” she’d said it as a prayer, but she couldn’t help feeling him stiffen and she suddenly remembered he was Dalish. He probably did not believe what she did.  
  
“I do not believe in gods,” the terse response surprised her.  
  
“Not even your Dalish gods?” she asked curiously.  
  
“What kind of gods allow themselves to be locked away, or ignore their creation and allow them to suffer? No. They’re not gods at all. Just powerful beings playing with things they have no right to. If they even existed at all.” He angrily scrubbed at his tears with a leather gauntlet. A laugh almost bubbled out of him, remembering how Dorian would chide him every time he tried scrub away his own tears, moving his hands away to dry them himself with gentle fingers. The thought only drew the tears faster and he clenched his fists against his thighs in anger, attempting to staunch them, his eyes screwed tightly shut.  
  
He’d never felt so alone in his life.  
  
Perhaps this was his curse. To always be alone. It seemed to be his lot in life since even his earliest memories. No one ever stayed. Either through death or other circumstance, anyone he ever dared care about was taken from him. What was the point in continuing to try? But no matter how hard he tried he could not be mad at Dorian. What man in his right mind would give up all Dorian had to run after a renegade escaped slave? All he could do was hope Dorian was happy, that he’d found someone. Perhaps finally resolved his differences with his father.  
  
Sadness swelled within his chest and renewed his tears, but he choked them back. This mark wasn’t going away. Likely wouldn’t, even if he somehow managed to close that damned breach. He may as well make the best of it, and crying like some weepy child wasn’t going to do that. A deep, cleansing breath tore through his lungs and he mentally grabbed hold of himself.  
  
Time to bury Dorian, Tamsas, and to be honest his clan family too. There was no way he’d be going back anytime soon. He had to let go of it all, accept the hand he’d been dealt, and soldier through to the best of his abilities. Maybe if he screwed up enough they’d toss him out on his ear and he’d be free to go.  
  
It was all he could hope for.  
  
\---  
  
"They're calling me what?" His eyes were impossibly wide.  
  
"The Herald of Andraste," Leliana repeated gently.  
  
"I...I don't...what does that even mean? I'm Te-...I'm Dalish!" He stared at each of them like they were mad. They probably were. His experience with southern humans was limited.  
  
"You are the one with the mark. Whether or not it is from the Maker is yet to be seen, but we will not discourage the belief," Cassandra replied, her arms crossed over her plate clad chest.  
  
"And you're telling ME to go meet this Mother Giselle? Represent the Inquisition? Why not someone more qualified? Like Cassandra?" This was insane! Why were they entrusting this to him?! Historically speaking elves in leadership positions when humans were involved turned out poorly for the elf.  
  
“Because you are the Herald. Whether you like it or not you are now the face of the Inquisition,” Leliana said firmly, her hands clasped behind her back.  
  
“But...I’m not a leader,” he retorted quietly. “I don’t know the first thing about being a figurehead.” Actually he did, he’d seen it plenty of times in Tevinter, which was precisely why he didn’t want to be one. Though he figured there was quite a bit less assassination here. Always a good thing.  
  
“That is what you have us for.” Cassandra laid a supportive hand on his shoulder and he glanced at her sidelong. “And I will be coming with you to meet with Mother Giselle.” Kaim rubbed his face tiredly with one hand and stared at the war table, as though the map would give him answers, or a way out of this mess.  
  
“Fine,” he finally muttered out in resignation, “I will do my best.”  
  
“That’s all any of us can ask of you,” Cullen told him gently. It was obvious to all of them that this situation made Kaim very uncomfortable, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about it, least of all him, so his agreeing to go along with their plan was a heady relief to them all.  
  
A long moment of exceedingly uncomfortable silence followed in which Kaim’s gaze darted from counselor to counselor, and seeing they had nothing further to add he turned on his heel and left the war room. This was entirely absurd! Rivaini dancer, to Tevinter slave, to escaped slave, to Dalish hunter, and now Herald of Andraste and face of the Inquisition? Whatever in the thrice cursed void that even meant! No matter how he looked at this it was all wrong!  
  
Firstly, he didn’t believe in gods. Secondly, he was Tevinter raised, so by proxy he would follow the Tevinter Chantry who did not believe in Andraste, not as the southern Chantry viewed her. If he believed in that at all. Then, tossing all THAT out the window, he had become Dalish, who had an entirely different and much larger pantheon! No matter how he looked at it SOMETHING wasn’t going to add up for him.  
  
This was already exhausting and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Except pass out quite a few times and close a rather large rift. If Tamsas were here he’d be laughing his ass off.  
  
Kaim’s steps slowed.  
  
But Tamsas would never laugh again, would he? Crushing guilt pressed down on him once more and he ducked his head, ignoring the murmured, awestruck exclamations of “Herald” as he passed by the inhabitants of Haven. Somehow he managed to keep his cool until he arrived at the little hut he’d awoken in and shut the door behind him. He broke down as he leaned against it , sliding down the wood to curl up on the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped tightly about himself. Sobs wracked his lean frame, and he sucked in a few quivering breaths.  
  
Nothing was ever going to be the same.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim was extremely odd to all of them. Not even Leliana could get a good read on him, every expression was muted, guarded, he was difficult to anticipate. Cassandra didn't like that about him one bit.  
  
After he wound down from his panic attack he settled into an eerie, logical, almost emotionless calm that very few things could shake. Every expression was subtle, but smiles were especially rare, it seemed just not much phased him. The one with the most success in eliciting a pleased response from him was surprisingly Sera, and he spent quite a bit of time in her company.  
  
When pressed for an opinion on Kaim her response was "He iddant too elfy. Cept for usin’ them big 'ole ears. All he does is listen. Can't help but ramble incessantly in 'is company, otherwise he just starin' at ya with them big weird eyes," she took her fingers and pulled back both sets of lids on her eyes to accentuate her point. But despite it all she was the only one who coaxed a positive reaction from him, he would smile a very soft smile at her stories. So that was something.  
  
He was virtually always silent and walked like a ghost. Leliana made it a point of pride to try to detect him when he would walk by, but repeatedly he managed to take her by surprise, much to her irritation. His skill in stealth was unparalleled.  
  
When he did speak, which was not often, everyone would stop and listen. It wasn't just the melodic, deep, pleasing quality of his voice, every word that left his mouth was well thought out. And he never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes it was almost uncomfortable. As Sera had said, people would just end up rambling to fill the silence.  
  
After a while people just seemed to open up suddenly and pour out their hearts to him. It didn't take long for a large portion of his followers to begin considering him a religious figure they would confess to. The advisors squashed this idea quickly. The last thing the Herald needed was that kind of pressure.  
  
But that didn't stop people throughout Haven from looking at him with a mixture of awe and mystery.  
  
He was...odd.  
  
So instead Leliana took her cues from the things he did not say. There was something about his style of dress that was...oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. At the war table, before he headed out to the Hinterlands, she visually picked apart his rogue gear. Her eyes glossed over the obviously Dalish pieces and concentrated on the odd undercoat that split into coattails over his backside, and the sash piece that hung down the front. Then there was the style of his gloves, they were layered and came to points past the elbows, matching pieces covered his biceps.  
  
As she was examining the pauldrons she noticed they were made of metal, unusual for a rogue and a Dalish. It suddenly occurred to her...the style was Tevinter! A Dalish elf wearing Tevinter styled rogue armor? Memories from long ago sifted through her mind and she realized he was wearing a modified version of Tevinter assassin leathers, they had simply been changed to look more Dalish. The thigh high boots with buckles should have been a dead giveaway. They hadn’t been altered much from their original design.  
  
An elf from Tevinter? He had to have been a slave. This gave her a jumping point and she smiled to herself before consulting her spy network. She would figure out Kaim yet.  
  
\---  
  
Leliana stopped by Josephine’s office to pick up a few reports and they began talking about the one subject that seemed to be on everyone’s lips lately: the Herald.  
  
“I miss him. He’s been gone for some time, hasn’t he?” Josephine looked up from her documents and twirled her quill, the feather trailing lightly with the movement.  
  
“They’re due back from the Hinterlands this week. How can you miss him though? He’s so quiet,” Leliana picked at the leather binding for the reports in her hands.  
  
“Oh, he and I actually have quite a few similar interests! He is quite the diverse young man!” Josephine gushed.  
  
“Wait, he talks to you?” The spymaster asked in surprise.  
  
“Oh yes! He comes to my office often and we chat about silk density, fashion, and dancing,” Josephine rocked forward slightly, her hands clasped between her knees, a very happy smile on her face.  
  
“He...what?” Leliana cocked an eyebrow. “He talks to you about...silk and fashion? He’s Dalish! How would he know about such things?”  
  
“What? Just because he’s Dalish means he can’t have nice things? I’m disappointed in you, Leliana!” She chided her friend.  
  
“I’m…” Leliana blew out a breath in frustration, “that’s not what I meant and you know it!”  
  
“I don’t know. To me that’s exactly what it sounded like,” Josephine teased her. “Frustrations in the spy world, my friend?” She asked intuitively.  
  
“Ugh, yes!” Leliana threw herself back in her chair and growled. “Finding information on him is slow and taxing. I’m having to dig further into Tevinter politics than I ever wanted to. Ever.”  
  
“Tevinter? I thought his accent sounded familiar,” Josephine puzzled slightly over this new information. “Though he looks very much like some of the Rivaini elves I’ve seen. And the way he speaks of dancing reminds me of some of the elite dancer schools they have there,” she shrugged. “Though that simply could be an interest, not necessarily where he is from.”  
  
“Maker preserve,” Leliana rubbed her forehead with a few fingers. “This elf is all over the map! The Free Marches, Tevinter, now Rivain?! I suppose I should send word to my contacts there as well. Maker providing he hasn’t changed his name. As it is just searching for ‘Kaim’ is like looking for one needle in a pile of needles. No, it’s not a common name, but without a last name things are difficult.”  
  
“Why is it so important you find out everything about his past?” Josephine questioned.  
  
“Because it’s my responsibility,” she gave her friend a stern look.  
  
“Alright, I know. And Maker forbid even one fact slip your notice,” she teased Leliana with a smile. The spymaster grinned back.  
  
\---  
  
Before they even reached the gate Sera’s voice was audible even from the stables.  
  
“You can’t shoot a bow?!” she asked incredulously.  
  
He gave a shy shake of his head.  
  
“What kinda Dalish are you?” Sera laughed.  
  
“I’m a Dalish like you’re a powerless common class to be stepped on by nobles,” he said softly and she cocked her head at him. “Perhaps not all I seem to be.”  
  
“Right! Piss buckets, I like you!” He chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. “Just don’t get full ‘o yer britches. Or you’ll find yerself w’out them the way them guards did!” She laughed brightly again and he couldn’t help smiling back.  
  
As they walked through the gates of Haven Sera was animatedly telling him all about this new recipe she’d picked up for a jar of bees.  
  
“You need a recipe for bees?” He chuckled quietly.  
  
“Nah! But you gots ta put honey in the jar too! Otherwise they just fly away instead of rammin’ their little stinger butts into the baddies!” She gesticulated wildly while talking and Kaim just smiled. “Problem is, I miss half the time and the bees go everywhere anyway!”  
  
“I learned a technique in-” he stopped himself, “a long time ago that helps me a lot. I can show you?” He pulled a vial of acid from his belt and shook it, showing her.  
  
“Ohhh! That burney stuff you use on the baddies! Yessss!!!”  
  
He smiled. “You kick it.”  
  
She raised an inquisitive brow at him. “Don’t that break it on you instead?”  
  
“Not if you do it right. Like the children’s game where you bounce the ball on your ankle?”  
  
Sera nodded vigorously. “I used ta bounce them off passin’ noble’s heads,” she giggled.  
  
“It’s all in how you catch it with your ankle.” He dropped the vial, scooped it nimbly with his ankle, tossed it in the air with the top of his foot, then spun around and kicked it. The vial went flying through the air and shattered against the nearby fence.  
  
“Andraste’s tits!” Sera laughed, watching as he pulled another and began bouncing it from foot to foot, playing with the vial as though it weren’t filled with extremely corrosive fluid.  
  
“Just make sure when you’re ready to actually launch it that you kick it with the sole of your foot, and use the angle to aim,” he kicked it high again, spun around and sent it flying, shattering exactly where the last one had. “And, practice with something less...damaging until you’ve got the hang of it.” He smiled at her as she clapped excitedly.  
  
“Herald,” Cassandra called from the rise above Varric’s campfire. “Cullen has more information on the mages and templars. We need to speak with you at the war table.”  
  
Kaim nodded with a wave and Cassandra turned, returning to the Chantry. When Kaim turned back Sera was making a face at the Seeker’s back.  
  
“Forget the wicked, you don’t never get even a moment to BREATHE with them advisors hangin’ on yer neck!” She laughed.  
  
“It could be worse, I suppose.” He shrugged noncommittally.  
  
“How?!”  
  
“They could have executed me for the Conclave. Like a few of them wanted to do.” He gave her a small smile over his shoulder before waving and meandering off, taking his time making his way to the Chantry.  
  
“Can you believe that guy?” She jerked a thumb at Kaim’s retreating back, glancing down at the dwarf huddled next to the nearby fire. “What a weirdo.”  
  
“Oh, indeed. Optimism is such a cooky trait,” Varric chuckled.  
  
“Says the guy in a relationship with his crossbow.” She laughed and plopped down next to him.  
  
\---  
  
“Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn’t yet arrived. He’s expected shortly,” the youthful mage announced somewhat bashfully.  
  
“Magister Gereon Alexius?!” Kaim fell back a step, wondering if he’d heard that right.  
  
“You know this man, Kaim?” Cassandra asked, looking at him curiously.  
  
“I...yes. Possibly. Maybe...”  
  
Cassandra made a disgusted sound. “Reassuring definitive answer.”  
  
When he continued into Redcliff without further explanation the rest of the party glanced at one another with unsure expressions. It was obvious he was hiding something and was not intent on sharing his knowledge. Uneasily they followed Kaim as he led them through the small, battered town toward the tavern.  
  
The smell of ale, sweat, and body odor assaulted his sensitive nostrils on entering the tavern and he glanced about the dimly lit, tightly packed room expectantly. First Enchanter Fiona stood across the room, conferring with a few mages and he immediately made his way over. Fiona glanced up as they approached.  
  
“Welcome, agents of the Inquisition. What has brought you to Redcliff?” she asked rather stiffly.  
  
Kaim raised an eyebrow at her. “We’re here because of your invitation back in Val Royeaux.”  
  
“You must be mistaken. I haven’t been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.” Fiona appeared genuinely perplexed.  
  
“Well, that’s very strange, because someone who looked exactly like you spoke to me in Val Royeaux.” Kaim crossed his arms over his chest. A memory tickled in the back of his mind and dread began to build in his gut. Rifts with time altered properties. Magister Alexius here in Redcliff. And now Fiona has no memory of ever having spoken to him in Val Royeaux? As far as Kaim knew Dorian and Alexius had never succeeded in their experiments. The potential damage to the fabric of time had been too great a risk…  
  
“Exactly like me? I suppose it could be magic at work, but why would anyone…” she paused. “Whoever...or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages have already...pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.”  
  
For a moment it felt like the ground had dropped out from underneath Kaim. They had all just sold themselves into slavery. Willingly. Nausea filled him and he thought he might vomit right then and there.  
  
“An alliance with Tevinter? Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?” Cassandra asked, appalled.  
  
“As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you,” Fiona said with finality. Kaim almost cringed. That hoity toity attitude would likely be the first thing to go under her new master’s heel.  
  
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Kaim told her quietly.  
  
“All hope of peace died with Justinia. This...bargain with Tevinter would not have been my first choice, but we had no choice,” Kaim wanted to slap her. There was always a decision better than slavery! “We are losing this war,” she continued. “I needed to save as many of my people as I could.”  
  
A chill suddenly ran up Kaim’s spine and his whole body tensed. Very slowly he turned around to face the door and the figure entering, watching the familiar silhouette shrouded in shadow step into the light.  
  
“Magister Alexius,” Kaim bit out tersely.  
  
“Kaim.” Alexius appeared surprised to see him at first, but then a slow smile spread across his face, as though seeing a friend again for the first time in years. “I knew you couldn’t be dead.”  
  
“I’m resourceful.” His jaw clenched, some of his old slave training surged back as he bit back a more emotional response, unwilling to let Alexius see how much his presence affected him.  
  
“Welcome, my friends!” Alexius now addressed the whole group. “I apologize for not greeting you earlier.” He languidly strolled further into the room, a satisfied smile spread across his face. “The southern mages are under my command. Ah, does this make you the survivor, Kaim? The one from the fade?” His eyes fell on the green flames, just barely licking up the inside of Kaim’s palm. The elf involuntarily closed his fist and the magister’s smile grew wolfish. “Interesting.”  
  
“Fiona mentioned indentured servitude. The mages are under the ten year contract then?” Kaim asked, valiantly attempting to keep the bitterness out of his voice.  
  
“Indeed. You remember well,” Alexius’ eyes regarded him slyly.  
  
“And when exactly did this negotiation take place?” Kaim crossed his arms, tamping down on his wildly thundering heartbeat, fighting the instinct to drop his eyes to the floor under the scrutiny of a magister. He was no longer a slave and he would not let Alexius intimidate him!  
  
“When the Conclave was destroyed these poor souls faced the brutality of the templars, who rushed to attack them.” Alexius affected a convincingly sorrowful expression, which Kaim didn’t believe for a minute. “It could only be through divine providence that I arrived when I did.”  
  
Their conversation continued for a while longer, Kaim fishing for information from Alexius, which the magister masterfully dodged. It felt unreasonably odd when Alexius offered to negotiate and the two of them sat together at the table, facing one another in actual conversation.  
  
“Felix, would you send for a scribe, please? Oh, you remember Felix, don’t you, Kaim?”  
  
Kaim looked up to the approaching young man and a smile almost lit his features. He remembered Felix from when he was just a boy, he had changed so much since he’d last seen him. He was most definitely a handsome young man now, but then Kaim noticed something was off.  
  
Before Alexius could react Kaim was on his feet, catching Felix gently as the young man collapsed. “Felix! What’s wrong? Is he ill?” he asked Alexius immediately, turning worried eyes to the magister.  
  
“My lord, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” Felix said, addressing Kaim. The elf felt Felix’s hand brush his own and he deftly palmed the note Felix was attempting to discreetly hand him.  
  
“Are you alright?” Alexius was immediately by his son’s side.  
  
“I’m fine, father,” Felix insisted.  
  
“Come, I’ll get your powders. Please excuse me, friends. We will have to continue this another time.” Kaim had never seen Alexius so worried and watched as the two men exited the tavern. Once in the clear he pulled the folded note from his palm and quickly read it.  
  
“It’s from Felix. He wants us to meet him in the chantry,” Kaim told them.  
  
“A trap?” Cassandra asked.  
  
“No. Not if it’s from Felix. I don’t think anyway.” Kaim considered it a moment. Felix used to be a sweet, loveable, eager boy. But things might have changed in the four years he’d been gone. “Let’s find out.”  
  
“Kaim, I think you owe us an explanation?” Cassandra asked him with a mixture of worry and wariness. The fact that Kaim appeared to be on a first name basis with a magister of the Tevinter Imperium was more than a little startling. As was his extensive knowledge of Tevinter slave practices.  
  
“I promise I’ll explain it better later. For now I really need to speak to Felix and find out what the hell is going on.”  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Remember, fair readers, the opinions of my characters are not my own! Just because a certain character thinks or believes a certain way does not mean I agree with them! That having been said, Kaim and Dorian finally reunite! But the Herald of Andraste and a Tevinter mage, Kaim's slave background will not possibly stay secret. Will their love be able to endure the hardships ahead?

The rest of the group glanced at one another in confusion as Kaim eagerly leapt up the stairs to the Chantry door, excited to see Felix again and possibly have the chance to ask about Dorian. It was almost an overpowering need to hear something about his beloved mage. It had been so long without word. Had Dorian forgotten all about him? Moved on? He knew correspondence wasn’t exactly safe. And it wasn’t like his clan had stayed in the same location long enough really…  
  
With a loud bang the door flew open and Kaim strode inside. Immediately his eyes were assaulted by the flashing glow of a rift and he frowned. Not what he’d been expecting. Though in retrospect, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. The sounds of combat drew his attention and he found his eyes resting on a lone figure, battling back the demons, staff twirled with expert command, spells erupted from schooled fingertips and his chest seized unbearably tightly.  
  
Was it...No, it couldn’t be…  
  
The figure turned and Kaim’s eyes grew wide, his breath died in his chest, and his heart thudded wildly.  
  
As statuesque, handsome, and beautiful as ever, Dorian stood before him. The years had hollowed his cheeks slightly, his hair was shorter, he sported a curled mustache and small bit of hair beneath his lower lip, but it was him. All gloriously Dorian! He was here! All his previous agony melted away, basking in the knowledge that he was here in Ferelden, not in Tevinter.  
  
When Dorian finally spun to regard the group his own eyes grew wide -those grey eyes Kaim had missed so much- and he in turn stared in amazement at the elf who’d haunted his every waking moment and nightly dream.  
  
“Kaim,” he breathed.  
  
“Dorian.”  
  
“Rift now! Introductions later,” Cassandra snapped charging past the frozen figures to leap into the fray.  
  
The spell was broken and everyone surged into action. Kaim’s daggers flicked into his nimble fingers and he danced, dealing death in graceful arcs and dips, crimson spurted fans in his wake. It appeared Dorian had only grown more powerful over his four year absence. Kaim could almost feel his manipulation of the fade as spells tumbled from fingertip and lips alike, his staff spun masterfully through his hands.  
  
In turn Dorian admired the elegance with which Kaim moved. The daggers were an extension of his arms and he literally danced. Dorian could almost hear the bangles around his wrists and ankles again, hardly looking like he dealt death with each stroke. It interested him to note Kaim hadn’t cut his hair since he’d left. It was longer now, tied back in the same ponytail he used to wear while dancing, but now his face sported elegantly curving lines of tattoos beneath his eyes and Dorian couldn’t wait to trace them with his fingers.  
  
The last demon collapsed with a gurgling growl and the energy returned to the rift. Kaim abruptly threw out his hand and the latent magic in his palm leapt to his command, pulling the threads of the veil until he felt the strings draw tight, sealing the rift as one would pull on the drawstrings of a purse to close it.  
  
Eagerly Dorian stowed his staff and whirled, his eyes seeking the elf but instead catching a bundle of said elf who flung himself at Dorian, arms thrown around his neck, Kaim's feet no longer touching the ground. A laugh filled the mage as his arms immediately surrounded Kaim, holding him as close as possible without crushing him. He spun them once, his face pressed into that elegant neck, his nose buried in ebony locks, breathing deeply, filling his senses with all that was Kaim.  
  
Laughter bubbled out of both men as they embraced. Kaim’s fingers gripped at his silken robes for purchase and delved into the hair at the back of his head, needing to touch him, feel him, smell him, his nose pressed to the skin of Dorian’s neck, laying kisses along the tendons.  
  
Dorian pulled back just enough to claim Kaim’s mouth and their tongues tangled, eager to sate remembered taste. It was a question, an answer, so full of desperation, loneliness, joy, disbelief, and elation. Emotions danced between them in this overcharged kiss and both men felt like they were drowning, neither wanting to be saved.  
  
When the need for air parted their lips they pressed their foreheads together and Dorian let his feet touch ground once more, bent slightly to accommodate his height, heated breaths washing over kiss flushed skin, eyes glittering at one another, soft smiles lighting their features.  
  
"I wonder if they know one another," Varric asked slyly.  
  
"You think," Cassandra growled testily.  
  
"I thought I heard slight Vint in your accent, Kaim," Bull chuckled. But for the moment the other two men were oblivious, wrapped up in their own world.  
  
"I can kiss you as one free man to another," Dorian whispered softly, his hands trailing up to the achingly familiar face, despite the changes. Kaim grinned and pulled him in close for another burning kiss.  
  
Reluctantly they parted and Kaim quickly laced Dorian's fingers with his own as he stepped back.  
  
"Everyone, this is Dorian, Scion of House Pavus, I'm guessing recently arrived from the Tevinter Imperium?"  
  
"Specifically Minrathous, yes."  
  
"Dorian, may I present Cassandra Pentaghast of the Seekers of Truth, Vanguard of the Inquisition."  
  
Cassandra nodded curtly.  
  
"Varric Tethras, companion to the Champion of Kirkwall and renowned author."  
  
“Ah, yes! I’ve read ‘Hard in Hightown.’ Delightfully scandalous! A pleasure!” Dorian flashed a brilliant smile.  
  
"The pleasure's mine," Varric tipped his head.  
  
"And The Iron Bull, commander of The Bull's Chargers."  
  
"Vint." Bull nodded.  
  
"Certainly a diverse group," Dorian chuckled.  
  
"Wait till you get to meet the rest of them," Kaim chuckled.  
  
"And you're the _Herald_. Will wonders never cease?" He gently took up Kaim's hand and examined the mark. Dorian could hardly believe it, his Kaim was the Herald. “So how does this work exactly?”  
  
Kaim grinned, realizing how much he’d missed Dorian and his unslakable curiosity. “I honestly have no idea how it got there.” Dorian’s brows shot up in surprise.  
  
“Come now, Kaim. I’m not willing to accept that you just wiggle your fingers and BOOM rift closes. I know you. You’ll have researched this,” he teased.  
  
Kaim laughed heartily. “It has something to do with the destruction at the conclave, but I have a blank spot in my memory. I remember attending, a commotion, and next thing I knew I woke up with it and everyone says I fell out of the fade,” he quickly explained.  
  
"The mark allows me to manipulate the Veil. I can feel the strings, pull them apart or mend them as I see fit,” he hesitated. “Well, not exactly, it’s taken me a long time to figure out how to use it without excruciating pain and it doesn’t always obey me as I feel it should. But I’m working on it.” He gave Dorian an impish grin and Dorian flashed a brilliant smile in return.  
  
Kaim’s smile dimmed somewhat. “Although, somehow I sense you weren’t in Ferelden specifically to look for me?”  
  
“Actually, yes I was…partly. I had planned on using the Inquisition to help find you. Turns out they were more efficient than I’d dared to hope for.” He dazzled with the most brilliant smile and Kaim felt his innards melt. “Upon exile from Tevinter-”  
  
“Halward kicked you out?”  
  
“Not...specifically. I really put my foot in a mess this time. Remember my response when you asked me what I would do the day my father found a contract I couldn't get out of?" He raised a brow at Kaim.  
  
"You said you'd run screaming from Tevinter because that would be the day you confirmed your father practiced blood magic." Kaim's brow suddenly rose in worry.  
  
Dorian nodded sagely. "I could add in some screaming if you prefer dramatics but you’ve got the gist of it. I’ll have to give you the delicious details later. Anyway, after my exile I heard Alexius had come to Redcliff, in possession of that time magic he and I had worked on once upon a time.”  
  
Kaim’s eyes narrowed. “I feared as much. That would explain the oddity of these rifts.”  
  
“Indeed,” Dorian agreed. “Somehow he got it to work. When last I saw him it was merely theory. However, this is also how he managed to steal the mages out from underneath you. He distorted time itself to arrive before you.”  
  
“Do you have any idea how much damage that’s caused yet?” Kaim gazed at him worriedly.  
  
“These time rifts? They’ll start appearing farther and farther from Redcliff. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it’s unraveling the world,” Dorian said ominously.  
  
“Have you divined a timetable for the damage? How long do we have?” The banter felt so much like home. It was amazing that even after four years apart they still fell into an easy rhythm.  
  
“You understand all this, Kaim?” Cassandra asked peevishly.  
  
Kaim nodded at her. “I do, I studied magical theory with Dorian when I lived in Tevinter-”  
  
“A nondescript way of putting it-” Dorian chuckled slightly.  
  
“Hush you!” Kaim elbowed him. A long sigh tore from the elf. “What he means is, when I was a slave in Tevinter.”  
  
All three companions blinked at him for a few moments.  
  
“I thought you were Dalish?” Cassandra asked confused.  
  
“I am...after Dorian helped me escape slavery.”  
  
“Escape? I paid a lot for your freedom, I’ll have you know.” Dorian raised a brow at Kaim in faux haute and the elf grinned back.  
  
“Oh. Well, that explains much,” Cassandra murmured dryly.  
  
“Like what?!” Kaim asked aghast.  
  
“Your weird accent for one,” Bull chuckled.  
  
“My-?”  
  
“And that you speak far too elegantly for most Dalish I’ve known...no offense,” Varric crossed his arms with a smirk.  
  
“That piece of silk you think no one notices you tuck under your sash,” Cassandra drawled and Kaim colored.  
  
“You kept the silk?!” Dorian’s voice went up a pitch in glee.  
  
“And your Tevinter assassin skills...you thought I didn’t notice,” Bull smirked as Kaim made a face at him.  
  
“They’re very snippish for supposed followers of yours,” Dorian murmured quietly as he leaned closer , though not quietly enough.  
  
“He’s not Andraste or anything,” Varric chuckled.  
  
“How awkward would it be if he were?” Dorian’s voice shook with laughter and Kaim steamed.  
  
“Alright, guys. Laugh it up. Back on task.” Kaim turned to the taller human. “Dorian, why is he doing this?”  
  
“I don’t know. Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys makes no sense.” Dorian crossed one arm over his chest and rested his chin on his knuckles. This felt so familiar and comfortable, the two of them muddling over a problem together. It brought a nostalgic smile to Dorian's’ face.  
  
A figure disentangled itself from the shadows. “He didn’t do it for them.”  
  
“FELIX!!!” Kaim squealed and tackled the taller human.  
  
The young man laughed. “Hello, Kaim! Sorry for the...act earlier.” He smiled as Kaim pulled back.  
  
“You look so much older!” Kaim poked his face with a finger and Felix pushed him away, laughing harder.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Dorian said grandly. “Is he getting suspicious?”  
  
“No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card. I thought he’d be fussing over me all day.” Felix sounded exasperated.  
  
“Are you alright, Felix? You had me worried,” Kaim looked up at him, his brows knit in concern.  
  
“I’m fine, Kaim. Just a lingering illness. It’s so good to see you, we had thought you dead,” Felix pulled him close in a half hug and Kaim smiled.  
  
“How mean of Dorian not to tell you.” His eyes glittered in amusement up at the mage.  
  
“You know the risks of telling anyone! If my father found out…” Dorian shook his head and Kaim chuckled.  
  
“Speaking of fathers…” Felix said darkly, “mine has joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves ‘Venatori’. And I can tell you one thing, whatever he’s done for them, he’s done it to get to you.”  
  
“It must be the mark he’s after,” Kaim said, gesturing with his glowing hand.  
  
“What he’s doing now is madness,” Felix said feelingly. “Please, Kaim, for his own sake, you have to stop him.”  
  
“It would also be nice if he didn’t rip a hole in time. There’s already a hole in the sky,” Dorian chimed in dryly.  
  
“The Venatori are obsessed with you, but I don’t know why,” Felix continued. “Perhaps it does have something to do with the mark, as you call it.”  
  
“You can close the rifts. Maybe there’s a connection? Or they see you as a threat?” Dorian surmised.  
  
“Maybe the mark can fix any tears in time they create as well? Is every time disturbance tied to a rift?” Kaim questioned softly.  
  
“We walked through a rift type portal to arrive here before you, so I would have to surmise yes. If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky, they’re even worse than I thought,” Felix commented.  
  
“All this for me. You know, I don’t recall Dorian, is it proper to get Alexius something?” Kaim chuckled.  
  
“Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those,” Dorian grinned.  
  
“I feel like an unnecessary part of this conversation,” Cassandra muttered dryly to Varric.  
  
“If you understood even half of it, you’re better off than I am, Seeker.”  
  
“Blah, blah, hole in the sky, blah, blah, time’s broken, sound about right?” Bull asked, his hand twitching on his axe. These Vints were making him nervous.  
  
“Let’s get moving. We need to consult my advisors before we decide on a course of action.” Kaim shifted his weight back and forth as he thought.  
  
“You have advisors?” Dorian asked excitedly.  
  
“I do, a council of advisors. One of them is Antivan. We talk about dancing a lot.” He grinned up at the taller man.  
  
“Maker, I missed you,” Dorian cupped his cheek and leaned down, kissing him lightly.  
  
“Kisses and happiness later! Let’s get out of Redcliff before someone gets suspicious,” Cassandra snapped, blushing.  
  
“I’ll catch up to you on the road. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here and you need to be seen leaving Redcliff.” Dorian pulled back, pleased when Kaim leaned into him slightly.  
  
“Promise?” Kaim pouted.  
  
“I promise. Oh, and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed?"  
  
"There are worse things than dying, Dorian."  
  
\---  
  
They waited on the road outside Redcliff for Dorian to join them as promised. To all their shock Kaim actually paced, visibly anxious.  
  
"Herald, you are a completely different man around this Dorian. Why?" Cassandra asked suspiciously.  
  
“I’m not different? What makes you think I’m different? I’m acting like I always do-” Kaim stopped himself when he realized he was rambling.  
  
“Because you easily spoke thrice the amount in just that single conversation than I’ve heard you speak in the entirety of my knowing you. Possibly more than that.” Cassandra rested her fists on her hips and raised her brow at him, daring him to contradict her.  
  
“Hah...okay.” Kaim rubbed the back of his neck and stared off to the side, trying to settle his flyaway thoughts. His whole world had been tipped on its head with Dorian’s appearance. In his mind he’d truly convinced himself of the fact that he’d never see the mage again. “I’m...well...Dorian saved my life. We’ve known each other over...well over eight years at this point.” His eyebrows shot up, realizing just how long it had been. “I...I was a slave in Tevinter...as you’ve obviously...figured out. Dorian purchased me to save me from a particularly cruel magister I had been acquired by…”  
  
Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “Why did he purchase you? Did you know one another prior to that point?”  
  
“I...no. But only he can answer that for you.” There was no way Kaim was touching that one.  
  
“Alright, fair enough. So he owned you then?” Cassandra crossed her arms, appearing for all Thedas like she was going to pummel Dorian into the dirt the moment he showed up.  
  
“No! I mean...yes, but it wasn’t like that!” Kaim grabbed a hold of Cassandra’s hand and dragged her to the side. He really didn’t want anyone else overhearing this. “Dorian literally saved my life,” he told her quietly. “Then he taught me to read and write, he educated me well above my station. I was a peer to him, not a servant. I mean...I _was_ technically under the law, but he didn’t treat me that way.” He sighed, wringing his hands. “Please...this is very personal to me, and it’s...it’s important you understand, Cassandra. I was barely a person when he bought me. The magisters had...well they’d made sure I had almost nothing to live for,” he finished lamely, his hands dropping to his sides as he refused to look at her. It took a lot for her to resist the urge to cringe. Visions of the scars on his wrists and neck danced before her eyes filling her with rage. That was the explanation for his panic attack. What kind of monster caused trauma like that?  
  
“Before Dorian...my life was dull and grey. I lived day to day knowing at any moment they may decide to take my life. I didn’t even have anything to live for. But then Dorian bought me and my world filled with color and vibrancy again...you have...you have no idea what that’s like,” he said emphatically and Cassandra felt her walls crumble a little more. There was so much beneath Kaim’s surface that he rarely let anyone see.  
  
This was what he’d been religiously protecting. Despite Dorian teaching him to be ‘human’ again he still had no idea how to deal with other people without fear of losing what he had built with the mage. So he pushed everyone away, kept them at arm’s length. Her heart melted a little more. The things this young man had to have suffered, she didn’t care what he thought of Dorian, if that Tevinter even looked at Kaim wrong…  
  
“Alright, I understand. He is very important to you. Kaim, I want you to feel like you can speak to me about anything. Dorian is not the only one who cares about you, please, will you promise to speak with me if you need something?” She pinned him with a stare that took him aback slightly. It reminded him of when Dorian had made him promise to share his nightmares.  
  
“I-I...I guess...I haven’t had anything to talk about…” he hesitated.  
  
“Obviously you did.” She smirked and he had the decency to flush slightly.  
  
“I’m sure you can understand why I didn’t…” He touched her arm as though in appeal.  
  
“Of course, Kaim. I am sure this is uncomfortable for you. However, you must understand that now most of the Inquisition will likely find out about your past. Come to me if you need to talk, yes?”  
  
He nodded. “I will.”  
  
At that moment they spotted Dorian as he trudged out of the woods on a side path. “I’m never going to get the smell of Ferelden out of my boots,” he bemoaned. Kaim launched himself into Dorian’s arms and the mage laughed, catching him up and swinging him around before giving him a light kiss.  
  
“They’re almost sickening, aren’t they? Remind you of anyone?” Varric asked Cassandra with a sly, amused look. Her only response was to snort and begin walking. Dorian let Kaim down and they walked shoulder to shoulder, holding hands as they fell into step behind Cassandra, Varric, and Bull.  
  
“How did you get here?” Kaim asked excitedly, practically clinging to Dorian’s arm. “What happened with Halward? You said you bought my freedom? Did it work then? The way we researched it? You spoke to the lower Senate and they relinquished my slave contract?-”  
  
“Slow down, Kaim” Dorian laughed, squeezing his hand. “You’re asking too fast for me to answer. Yes, I presented my case to the lower Senate, and half my fortune and two years later they finally conceded and I was able to purchase your contract and destroy it.”  
  
“Seriously? I was that expensive?” Kaim blinked.  
  
“Have you seen yourself?” Dorian leaned down and gave him a soft kiss, ignoring Cassandra’s disgusted noise and Varric’s cackle.  
  
\---  
  
“A former Tevinter slave,” Cullen blurted out angrily. “When did you plan on telling us?”  
  
“ _Never_ , preferably,” Kaim muttered, crossing his arms uncomfortably.  
  
“What? Leliana! How did you not know about this?” Cullen threw up his hands.  
  
“I _did_ know about it.”  
  
“And you didn’t tell us either!” Cullen stared at her aghast.  
  
“Of course not! It’s Kaim’s business and it has nothing to do with the Inquisition! If anything it means he understands the plight of the people more,” she argued.  
  
“Do not ever compare the Circle of Magi to slavery!” Kaim spat vehemently.  
  
“A poor choice of words. It was not a comparison. I said it merely to point out that such a storied hero can indeed come from a horrific background,” she acceded.  
  
“How did you know?” He asked quietly.  
  
“First was your accent. The Tevinter bleeds through when you are tired or not paying attention.” She smiled kindly. “Then there was your preference of clothing. Though your leathers display dalish accents the base is a Tevinter assassin style and that piece of silk cloth you think no one notices you fold reverently around your waist and under your belt. Then there is your fighting style. No one learns Tevinter Assassins Guild techniques willingly.” She paused. “Except maybe Zevran." A chuckle escaped her. "After that it simply took a little digging to discover the paper trail of the son of a powerful magister attempting to have an escaped slave by the name of Kaim granted legitimate freedom.”  
  
“Ugh, those are the same things Cassandra, Varric, and Bull all said. I suppose I’m not as sneaky as I thought. So you knew about Dorian too?” he asked, shoulders slumped slightly.  
  
“Yes, but not specifically what he meant to you. All I knew was your former master’s son was, for unknown reasons, trying to obtain your freedom,” the spymaster replied.  
  
“Is this going to cause problems? Having your former master a member of the Inquisition?” Cullen asked softly.  
  
“No!” Kaim calmed himself. “Actually, it won’t. Dorian was never really...a true master. He purchased me to save me and...never really held it over me. I was more like...a personal assistant. He taught me to read, to write, solve complex arithmetic, I learned Tevinter politics, military and magical theory alike. Dorian saw to it I had an education. He treated me as a peer, not a slave. It’s part of why I had to leave Tevinter,” Kaim lied. “His father discovered our close relationship and threatened to kill me. So Dorian brought me to the Minrathous border, gave me money and supplies and instructed me to find a dalish clan. Then told his father he’d ‘disposed’ of me, heavily implying he’d had me killed. It was all to protect me.”  
  
Cullen nodded. “I see. Having a Tevinter mage amongst our numbers may cause...issues, but as far as I’m concerned he’s welcome.”  
  
“Thank you, Cullen.”  
  
The templar caught his arm as he turned to leave, but he waited until the other three women had departed before speaking.  
  
"Please do not mistake my frustration as aimed at you," he entreated. "As a freed or escaped Tevinter slave there are additional risks to your life. I am not able to perform my job to the best of my abilities with information like this missing." His eyes were soft as he silently asked for forgiveness for his outburst and Kaim felt himself relax slightly.  
  
"Have no fear, commander. It is simply a very uncomfortable truth about my life that I would rather not be defined by. When people find out, that is usually all they see from then on." Kaim gave him a faint smile, thinking of the complications he’d endured from his clan.  
  
"I understand completely."  
  
They shared a sad smile before Kaim left the war room.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim stood in the Chantry, listening to Vivienne’s opinions on Circle mages. To be honest he found his mind wandering often. Not that he found Vivienne herself boring, or was disinterested in what she had to say, he just...had no idea what to even think of the circles. They worked so differently in Tevinter. And the dalish were protected and policed by the Keepers. Much of this made little sense to him. Each circle seemed to be different, some bearing atrocities worse than the Imperium while others were like palaces.  
  
Vivienne herself was rather difficult to get to know. She held the same aloofness that nobles tended to, gave her opinions freely but kept personal facts close, and she appeared to be an avid supporter of the circles. Unlike most of the Inquisition her arrogance wasn’t an issue for him. She was good and she knew it, much the same way Dorian was. Why be bashful about the facts of life? When people accepted this they would get along with her much more easily.  
  
"My dear, is it wise to give in to traumatic bonding?" Vivienne asked abruptly.  
  
"What? I don't have-" Kaim stared at her in shock.  
  
"But of course you do, my dear. Dorian was your _master_ ," she pointed out as though he were being silly.  
  
"No, you misunderstand our relationship. Dorian treated me as an equal. He helped me escape and bought me my freedom at great cost to himself both monetarily and politically. Dorian never treated me like he owned me." Kaim was a little irritated she'd thought such a thing.  
  
"Of course, darling. But please remember, your vision was clouded by your perspective. You don't have to go crawling back to him. You’re a free man now-"  
  
"There is no crawling involved! There never was! I know exactly how slaves are treated in Tevinter. Dorian was not my first owner! I was Dorian's right hand, his best friend, his support. He taught me to read, write, to do math!" He didn’t understand her basis for such an opinion.  
  
"He was _using_ you, as any master would. The price was your body, you simply did not realize it. You did not know any better," she told him kindly.  
  
"You are sorely mistaken," he hissed vehemently. "Dorian never laid a hand on me. We have never slept together, not yet anyway. He did not _use_ me! I performed tasks for him as any other manservant was required to do, but it was mainly to keep up appearances for his father. I folded his clothes, organized his library, made sure he kept up on his studies, ensured he ate enough, got enough sleep. In return I was given my own clothes, my own room, my own books, paper and quill with which to write..." Kaim's eyes flashed in anger as he spoke.  
  
"It appears I have offended. That was not my intent. I merely worried for you and his possible influence over you," she backpedaled politely.  
  
"Then next time do not presume to speak on a subject matter you know nothing about," he ground out through clenched teeth before storming away. Okay, so perhaps her arrogance and opinionated demeanor were infuriating when aimed at you. As he slammed the door of the Chantry the thought skittered through his mind that he was overreacting, that he may be snap reacting to a sensitive subject, but it was very difficult to be pragmatic about this. How could she be so insensitive? What could she POSSIBLY know of slavery? As he’d said to Leliana, the Circles and slavery were two entirely different things and could not be compared!  
  
Traumatic bonding indeed! He snorted.  
  
Then his steps slowed, a tickle at the back of his skull sent a quiver of unease down his spine. Was she right?  
  
His fury calmed slightly and he glanced back over his shoulder, doubt settling over him in a sour veil as he struggled with his thoughts. Was he attached to Dorian so strongly out of some misplaced sense of duty, out of his ingrained desires from being a slave? Frustration stirred in his gut and nausea punched him hard. He had been a slave. Could he truly trust his own thoughts on the matter? Dorian had owned him but helped build him into a real person again. Could it all have been...he shuddered at the thought. Could Dorian have been manipulating him all along?  
  
Kaim could not face Dorian again until he'd settled his own thoughts, so he ducked into the small Chantry garden along the side of the building and heaved himself onto the stone bench. This was too important to shove aside and think on later; as it was there would be resistance enough to Dorian's presence and the fact that Kaim had been his slave. Add in their relationship and the likely escalation of affections and Kaim would have a fight on his hands defending their relationship, just like with Vivienne, only worse.  
  
Carefully, deliberately, Kaim dredged up every memory, every moment of his slavery with Dorian, reviewed every possible behavioral flaw. Was it possible Dorian was manipulating his affections? First off Halward had kicked Kaim out of Tevinter, not Dorian, and Dorian had seemed legitimately upset. No, Kaim truly believed Dorian's behavior during his slavery was genuine, that he truly cared for Kaim.  
  
And besides, if it had been misplaced devotion on Kaim's part he would have lost his affection for Dorian years ago. He didn’t love Dorian out of a need to serve him, or out of some perverted obsession. Dorian had never truly been a master to him, nor had he ever mistreated him. It couldn’t possibly be such a thing. In addition Dorian wouldn’t have given up everything he had in Tevinter just to follow four years behind a slave in the hopes his manipulation had worked. Would he? The thought made absolutely no sense.  
  
Alright, but did it take Dorian four years to come find him. Was Kaim convenient now that Dorian himself was exiled from Tevinter? The thought bothered him more than a little. Was Kaim his fall back plan?  
  
Confused thoughts swirled through his head and anger built within him once more. Damn, Vivienne! Now that the idea was planted he couldn’t help wondering.  
  
\---  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a side note, I really do enjoy Vivienne's character, but I felt she was an appropriate plot mechanic for bringing these feelings out. I feel she would speak her mind without much fear, and she also seems the type to believe herself to be correct until given evidence proving otherwise. The conversation was not intended to be malicious on her part, but she is a difficult character to decipher and portray. She is much like Dorian really, except her faith is unwaveringly placed on the Chantry and the Circles instead of Tevinter. I also believe she is a very misunderstood character, and this is a step in the friendship direction for both her and Kaim. I'm explaining this because I believe it will be difficult to portray in the future, and I do not want anyone believing I dislike Vivienne. I believe she and Kaim will actually get along quite easily because of his exposure to noble upbringing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNING: for sexy time. A lot of it. It IS rated explicit after all.
> 
> [Have some NSFW art](http://selydra.tumblr.com/post/121055180850/dorian-pavus-and-kaim-lavellan).
> 
> Those of my readers who are American have a happy holiday weekend! :)

Dorian glanced around with interest at the tiny little hovel Kaim occupied in Haven while he waited for the elf to return from his meeting. There wasn't much that actually looked personal in the dwelling, so he felt less guilty poking around. Kaim's pack, however he left alone.  
  
Abruptly the door crashed open and Kaim stormed in, slamming the door shut behind him just as vehemently, a dark expression on his features.  
  
" _Venhedis_ ," he cursed, still upset by the seeds of doubt his conversation with Vivienne sowed in his mind.  
  
"Careful, Kaim, your Tevinter is showing," Dorian drawled.  
  
When Kaim stopped in his tracks and stared at him a moment Dorian began to worry. Had Kaim changed? Did he offend him? A laugh erupted from him and suddenly Dorian's arms were full of Kaim and he grinned down at his elf.  
  
"Gods, I missed you," Kaim breathed. His fingers eagerly explored their way up Dorian's back and neck, through his hair, and around to his face where he pulled the mage down into a burning kiss.  
  
Dorian's arms wound around his slender waist and pulled their bodies flush, his own hands traveling Kaim's figure, eager to discover what he'd previously denied himself.  
  
"You are a free man," Dorian breathed when their lips parted. The doubts bubbled to the fore briefly and Kaim wondered a moment if this was wise. No. He would get his answers later. For now he would be selfish for once.  
  
"And I want your fingers to touch every part of me," Kaim completed his thought and Dorian groaned, reclaiming those delicious lips, the kiss quickly turning  searingly passionate, tongues, teeth, and lips battling, their breaths sounding  harsh to their own ears. Eight years of pent up sexual desire came crashing down around the two of them, leaving them burning uncontrollably for one another.  
  
Despite his eagerness, fear gripped Kaim at the thought of actually having sex and he forced himself to breathe, repeating in his own mind that _this was Dorian and Dorian would never hurt him_.  
  
The mage picked up on his distress through the subtle tightening of Kaim's muscles, the reluctant tension in his spine, how his lips ever so slightly closed, denying a deeper connection. This wasn’t just a fling with a nobleman’s son, this was Kaim, and Kaim had to be treated gently, with respect. Kaim had to be treated as breakable, because he was. As strong as the elf had become, had always been, he was still fragile, and once broken it was too easy to widen the cracks again. It took all his willpower to rein in his desires, but he calmed, gently cupping Kaim's face, and leaning  close to ensure he had his attention.  
  
"We don't have to do this, Kaim. Not if it makes you uncomfortable." His grey eyes studied Kaim's features in earnest concern and the elf practically  melted. Would a man who desired to manipulate or take advantage of him treat him with such tenderness? Some of the doubts edging his conscious began to fade away.  
  
"No, trust me, I want this so bad it hurts," he chuckled and Dorian grinned back. "But...this is just...the first time it's been...voluntary..."  
  
Dorian kissed him gently, his eyes burning with the sting of tears at the horrific thought. "We will go at your pace then. You are in control of this whole thing, and we will and won't do only what you're comfortable with."  
  
The sincerity in his voice filled Kaim's heart with so much joy he thought he might burst. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Kaim whispered, his fingers splayed across dark cheekbones and carded into the hair ruffled against the back of his neck.  
  
"Whatever it was, you really stepped in it," Dorian teased and Kaim smacked him playfully.  
  
A gentle sigh of pleasure escaped Dorian as he pulled the tie from Kaim’s hair and combed his fingers through the waterfall of ebony he loved so much. He captured Kaim's mouth in a soft kiss. Slowly, tenderly, lavishing attention with fingers and lips alike, they began undressing one another. Even after four years Kaim could probably strip Dorian in his sleep.  
  
As Kaim's skin was bared little by little Dorian found himself fascinated by the delicate light blue tattoos that continued from his face down his body, swirling the muscles and accentuating a body hardened by life in the wild with the Dalish. That life had been beneficial to his figure, his muscles carrying more bulk than previously since there was more hunting than dancing and lounging on sofas reading.  
  
With worshipping fingers he traced the lines, watching his progress with glittering eyes. Kaim just as devotedly explored each expanse of skin that was revealed, his touches trailing the areas denied him before.  
  
"Tell me to stop if something I do makes you uncomfortable," Dorian whispered as he leaned forward and claimed one of the elegant tattoo lines on Kaim's throat with his mouth, kissing, licking, and sucking at the warm flesh and tendons he found there. A soft sigh escaped him at finally tasting his elf's skin.  
  
Kaim shivered, overwhelmed by the sensations as Dorian followed the lines with his lips and tongue. He had wanted this for so long, wanted his mage to touch him, to feel his fingers and mouth, and now that he had it he could hardly believe he wasn’t dreaming. This felt nothing like any of his prior experiences. Dorian was so gentle, moving deliberately to savor and enjoy Kaim instead of sating his desires, using his body like it were a toy and casting him aside, as though he were a piece of furniture, to fulfill a function, to be used. No, Dorian was treating him as though the man under his loving strokes and caresses was the most precious thing in all Thedas, solicitous, ardent, reverent, someone to be treasured.  
  
Stripped down to their small clothes Dorian gently led Kaim to the small bed against the back wall and laid him out across it before climbing over top him. Reflective grey eyes shimmered in the low light as they took in his every detail, the most serene smile Kaim had ever seen resting on his lips. Worshipfully Dorian’s mouth trekked down Kaim’s chest, his fingers splayed against the corded biceps and arms, traversing every dip, caressing each hollow, dancing across each plane. In addition to the new tattoos there were a few new scars as well and Dorian made a mental note to ask about them later, especially that one that spanned his lips on his right side.  
  
After a long, agonizing journey south Dorian reached the waist of his small clothes and hooked his fingers on the fabric. Inch by inch he drew them down, watching Kaim carefully for any signs of distress. When none were apparent he turned his concentration to the fabric before him, immeasurably pleased when Kaim's erection finally sprang forth. Eight years he had waited for this.  
  
Without a second thought he tossed the small clothes aside, his eyes eagerly trained on Kaim's member. Kaim watched him, soaking in his wanton expression until Dorian's tongue lazily trailed him from base to tip, drawing a loud groan from him.  
  
That impossibly warm mouth closed about the head and Kaim gripped his shoulders with blunt fingernails as Dorian slowly swallowed his length, eagerly tasting him. It took all Kaim’s self-discipline to resist bucking his hips when Dorian's head bobbed, sliding him in and out of his exquisite mouth, soft throaty moans escaping him.  
  
Now that especially was new. No one had ever taken the time to pleasure him, to take him into their mouth and bring him to heights unknown. And it _was_ mind blowing. Dorian was so hot and greedy around him, sucking, stroking with his tongue.  
  
After a few moments Kaim arrested his movement with a hand on his head. "Dorian," he panted, "if you keep going this will be over too soon, and I want you inside me when I come."  
  
Dorian had never heard more beautiful words in his whole life.  
  
"Apologies...It has been longer than eight years after all..." Kaim sounded embarrassed but Dorian hushed him with his mouth, sighing softly when that lithe body arched up against him.  
  
“As it has been for me as well,” he whispered when they parted, warm breath washing over slightly swollen lips. “Have no fear that this might be a little short, because I plan on ravishing you more times than either of us are capable of counting.”  
  
The grin that broke Kaim’s face brought one to his own in return before it was devoured by more passionate kisses. Awkwardly, Kaim felt along the floor by the bed until he found what he was looking for. If memory served, Dorian always kept...ah, there it was. His fingers found Dorian’s enchanted belt and the little bottle that hung upon it.  
  
Teasingly Kaim lifted one of Dorian’s hands, allowing the mage to shift his weight atop him. The questioning look on his face was answered when Kaim slicked his fingers with elfroot oil causing him to chuckle before capturing Kaim’s mouth again. The thighs Dorian had waited to have around his hips for these long years parted and lifted, bringing his knees up around Dorian’s ribs as he  let out a harsh breath. This was more than he'd ever dared imagine. Kaim's thighs were so muscular, lean, and strong.  
  
With his fingers over Dorian's, he guided the mage's hand between his parted cheeks to show him he was alright. When Kaim's hand retreated Dorian's finger gently swirled the tight ring of muscles around his entrance and Kaim gasped softly, his face a mask of pleasure. That was completely new too. There had never been careful preparation before, sometimes there hadn’t even been lubrication, but this...Dorian was so gentle, so concerned. A loud, desire filled groan escaped the elf as one finger pressed slowly up inside him, blowing away any coherent thought. Kaim’s eyes opened again as it began to pump in and out, very gently stretching and preparing him, and he found Dorian watching him carefully, his grey eyes glittering as he took in Kaim’s knit brows,  his flushed cheeks, and lips parted in impassioned bliss.  
  
Dorian desperately wanted the pleasure of his touch and the memory of it to entirely expunge the nightmares, to completely override them. It was an endeavor he knew to be impossible. Those kinds of memories could never fully be eradicated, but he wanted Kaim to see those monsters for what they were and know that real sex was mind bogglingly wonderful, not the painful experiences  he'd known.  
  
Dorian’s mouth slanted across Kaim’s open one when he slid a second finger inside him, swallowing his cries of ecstasy. It wasn’t like these walls were that thick, he smiled against Kaim’s lips. At this rate half Haven would know what they were up to. But this was so much more than he ever imagined it would be, the feel of Kaim in his arms, his scent all around, intoxicating him, his body pressed to Dorian’s, how tight he was around his probing fingers, the way he arched and whimpered when he curled his fingers and rubbed his prostate just right. Those sounds...Dorian leaned forward and kissed the corded column of Kaim’s throat, feeling the vibrations against his nose and lips.  
  
As soon as he thought Kaim ready he slipped a third finger inside him and gently spread them. Kaim’s arms scraped down Dorian’s back and he bit his shoulder in an attempt not to scream out his pleasure. Blunt nails dug into the smooth skin and hard muscle and he writhed as those fingers moved in him. It burned, but there was no comparison to what had happened in Kaim’s past, the burn was pleasurable instead of agonizing, the movements loving instead of violating.  
  
"Are you alright?" Dorian asked in concern. Although he was fairly sure the response was rapturous and not panic he wanted to hear it from Kaim.  
  
"No, I'm not. You're not inside me," Kaim practically whined and Dorian chuckled.  
  
Finally satisfied he was ready his hand withdrew, earning a whimpering sound from Kaim that he smoothed away with his lips while he kicked off his small clothes and spread the oil on his painfully erect member. Reflexively Kaim’s knees tightened around Dorian’s torso as the mage positioned himself and then very slowly began to push up into Kaim. The elf’s fingers clawed at his back, climbing into the nape of Dorian’s neck, his face turned against Dorian’s throat to stifle his cries.  
  
Despite Dorian’s care in preparing him it still burned a little and he winced, forcing the terrible memories out of his mind. Pleasure quickly overrode the discomfort though and his head fell back, body bending as the mage filled him in a way he’d never experienced before, leaving him quivering and breathless.  
  
It had never been gentle before and this was.  
  
Everything Dorian did was to bring maximum pleasure to them both and as much comfort to Kaim as possible. When Dorian finally pressed his hip bones firmly against Kaim’s ass, now completely seated inside him, he paused a moment, letting Kaim stretch and adjust. Gently he pulled Kaim from his shoulder so he could see his beautiful face. He wanted to witness every expression of pleasure, memorize how Kaim looked as he came.  
  
He was more than a little surprised to find tears.  
  
"Kaim, did I hurt you?" The panic in his voice was unmistakable and Kaim smiled broadly at him.  
  
"No," Kaim's palm rested against his face and his thumb smoothed across his cheekbone. "I have never felt anything more wonderful in my life. I-" he paused and Dorian gave him time, "it's never been slow or gentle before," he admitted. "It's...beyond amazing," he finished in a whisper.  
  
Their foreheads pressed together, eyes glittering into one another’s, heavy, warm breaths washing over flushed cheeks.  
  
"This is the way it is supposed to be," Dorian told him softly. "And you will never know anything except immeasurable pleasure from within my arms." A happy mewl from Kaim's throat was muted as he pulled Dorian into a passionate kiss that said more than words could how grateful he was.  
  
Kaim gripped his shoulder with one hand as his other ran up the back of Dorian’s head into his hair, gazing into his eyes when he shifted his hips, indicating he was ready. A long, wanting groan escaped Dorian at the friction and he immediately picked up the pace, his hips shifting as he began to move. Kaim’s elegant eyes fluttered at the instantaneous and overwhelming sensation, his mouth open in pleasure. He refused to close his eyes fully though, drinking in the sight of Dorian just as affected as he.  
  
Dorian pressed closer, Kaim’s erection trapped between their abs, the mage’s hips undulating in a slow, steady rhythm, hedonically drawing out every little quiver of pleasure, the heat built between them almost unbearable.  
  
“Dorian,” Kaim moaned, the sensation of something coiling under his belly button distracting and desperate at once, the need for release overpowering. It was new and a bit scary, but as though on instinct his body knew what he wanted, what he needed, and he met Dorian's thrusts with an eager tilt of his hips.  
  
“Kaim,” Dorian breathed back, their expressions mirror images of the staggering ecstasy they were both experiencing. Dorian quickened his thrusts, his need driving him, pleased at the moans that escaped his lover, the feel of him writhing in pleasure, the way his brows knit together, the urgency displayed on his features.  
  
“Dorian, I-I…” the mage’s hands slipped up Kaim’s sides to bury themselves in the ebony hair that fanned out around his elf and he captured Kaim’s lips in a loving kiss before leaning close to one sloping ear.  
  
“Come for me, _Amatus_ ,” he whispered. The breath arrested in Kaim’s chest, every word in that request sending him reeling. He refused  to close his eyes even as he came hard, his whole body tensed, spots filling his vision, pupils blown wide, his fingers scratching claw marks across Dorian’s shoulders, toes curled into the sheets. The sheer pressure of Kaim’s orgasm drew Dorian right behind him, his hips bucking automatically  as he spurt his passion inside Kaim, fingers fisted in the black silk, their eyes scorching into one another even half lidded in their rapture.  
  
Kaim pulled Dorian down, their breaths harsh as he devoured Dorian’s mouth, nipping lightly at his lip, fingers raking through his hair.  
  
“I love you, Dorian Pavus,” he said when they parted ever so slightly for breath. The mage pulled back more, surprise in his eyes. When his lips opened to respond  Kaim pressed his thumb against them. “Shh, you don’t have to say anything. I knew I was in love with you the night Rilienus made advances on you.” His thumb traced the soft lips he adored, his eyes following the digit’s movement before returning to those stunning ashen eyes. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t ever have to say it if you don’t want to.”  
  
Dorian was overwhelmed. Never in his life had he heard those words paired with the expression Kaim wore at that moment. It was full of affection, care, adoration, and yes, love. The words were almost unnecessary, but hearing them was...Dorian was lost. It wasn’t that Dorian didn’t want to say them back, he wanted to so badly it hurt, his chest aching with it, but that was exactly why he struggled. Almost everyone Dorian had known used those words to manipulate, to wound.  
  
Those words usually spilled too easily from undeserving lips.  
  
But when Kaim said them, there was such a vulnerability, so much of his heart left exposed, a heart Dorian realized he’d been holding all along, as Kaim had been holding his. And Kaim was leaving himself even more in the mage’s hands. Damn elf. Dorian’s eyes stung with unshed tears.  
  
“ _Amatus_.” He pressed his forehead to Kaim’s, pleased with the smile Kaim returned. It was enough.  
  
The door suddenly burst open so hard the two actually thought it might have been ripped off the hinges. “Herald! I-” Cassandra froze in the doorway when her eyes finally fell on the two, Dorian lay atop Kaim, the elf’s thigh was wrapped around and over Dorian’s back, their arms firmly around one another, Kaim’s hand still on Dorian’s face, their eyes impossibly wide as they stared at the Seeker.  
  
Completely naked.  
  
With Dorian's ass hanging slightly in the air.  
  
The only thing that kept them somewhat decent was their hips pressed together.  
  
Almost comically a painfully red blush slowly spread over Cassandra’s cheeks and down her neck, disappearing into her chestplate.  
  
“Isn’t this profile marvelous?” Dorian asked when he’d regained command of his mind. “I picture it in marble.” He grinned roguishly at Cassandra who suddenly sputtered.  
  
“Come find me when you’re...I-I mean...I need to speak to you later, Kaim!” Cassandra snapped and whirled around, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Both men lay there another moment before bursting simultaneously into laughter.  
  
“Oh, _kaffas_ , so much for discretion,” Kaim swore, the palm over his mouth muffling his laughter.  
  
“ _Amatus_ , I think we ruined that with the sounds we were making.” Dorian grinned coyly before leaning down and nosing his hand out of the way so he could kiss his lover.  
  
“And here I thought we’d been rather quiet,” Kaim murmured with a chuckle against Dorian’s lips. The soft member finally slipped out of him and the elf sighed a soft, breathy sound.  
  
"Perception is always colored by the moment." Dorian nuzzled Kaim's pointed ear, drawing small gasps from the elf. "Do you need to go?"  
  
"Not when you’re doing things like that to my ears,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms firmly around Dorian’s ribs. “I've waited years to have you in my arms. The Inquisition can wait a little longer." Kaim grinned then slipped under Dorian's body until his mouth was even with his abs, his tongue cleaned his own release off Dorian's stomach and the mage sucked in his breath.  
  
After a moment Dorian leaned back, pulling away from the warm, seeking mouth, completely unsurprised when Kaim followed him up, trailing his abs with his tongue. Firmly Dorian pushed him back against the bed and proceeded to clear the rest of Kaim's relief with his own tongue, enjoying the flavor of him.  
  
"You know..." Kaim murmured, already hardening under Dorian's ministrations, "I used to watch you." He looked down when the mage paused, gazing up at him curiously.  
  
"Watch me?"  
  
"When I would dance for you, every time you sent me away immediately after. The second time I waited by the door until I heard you go into your bathing rooms and I snuck over." His thumb traced Dorian's lips. "And I watched you until you came. Then I went back to my room and pleasured myself thinking about you."  
  
Dorian made a soft sound and closed his eyes, sucking Kaim's thumb between his lips, nibbling on it gently. "You naughty elf." He grinned when he released his thumb. “You watched me every time I masturbated?” His smile was coy.  
  
Kaim nodded. "As many times as I was able. I've wanted you so badly for so long," Dorian met Kaim halfway and their lips crashed, desperately tasting one another, the flavor of Kaim's seed still on their tongues. "Later I'll feel my cock inside you, but right now I need you in me again," Kaim breathed against Dorian's mouth.  
  
"Who could say no to such a request?" Dorian grinned and sat up on his knees, pulling Kaim up with him, the elf’s lithe legs firmly wrapped about his hips. Kaim grinned mischievously, but before Dorian had time to process what it meant Kaim had planted his feet on the bed and spun. With a whoosh of air from his lungs Dorian landed back first on the bed with Kaim straddling his hips.  
  
The satisfied smile Kaim gave him was swallowed when he pulled the elf down into a ravenous kiss which was eagerly returned, nibbling Dorian's lower lip. Lazily Kaim's hips undulated, allowing their half hard erections to slide along one another pulling a pleasurable hiss from Dorian, breaking the kiss. Kaim snatched up the bottle and liberally coated Dorian more, bringing him fully back to hardness before he shifted forward and guided Dorian's slick member between his ass cheeks, teasingly allowing it to rub against his opening for a few moments.  
  
"Insufferable tease," Dorian half groaned, half growled. A wicked smile lit Kaim's face as he sat up fully, supported on his knees by his thighs, and Dorian realized he could now see his cock pointed straight up toward Kaim's ass from between the thighs straddling him. Before he could formulate words or even thoughts regarding how unbelievably provocative that was, Kaim began to slide down onto him.  
  
A loud cry escaped both men when the head of Dorian's cock eased past the tight opening. Dorian's fingers gripped Kaim's lean hips as though his life depended on it, and he  refused to look away until he fully disappeared up inside his lover. Almost every muscle in Kaim's body bunched and flexed as he shifted atop his mage, pressing him as deep as he would go, adjusting to the girth at this angle, and Dorian was transfixed, watching Kaim's lithe form. The come from before squeezed out around Dorian’s cock and the mage felt himself harden even more, who knew such a thing could be an incredible turn on?  
  
Bracing his hands on Dorian's ribs Kaim began to move, but he didn't raise up and down, instead he gyrated, undulating his hips as though he were dancing, rolling forward and back, side to side, the friction intense and hot, sending both men careening almost out of control. The bite of Dorian's fingers into his hips was on the cusp of painful but only enhanced the pleasure and Kaim's head fell back in ecstasy, his nails dragging tracks down Dorian's ribcage.  
  
Entranced Dorian watched Kaim ride him, the vision he made, head back, mouth open in pleasure, eyes closed, his body moving rhythmically, coupled with the immeasurable sensations he was causing pushed the Tevinter closer and closer to the edge of the abyss. As long he could hold it back he continued to watch Kaim, the light blue, curling tattoo lines veritably glowed in the dim light. They accentuated his broad chest, followed the lines of his biceps, swept along his abs, and continued down his thick thighs. Kaim's head tipped back down and his glittering eyes watched Dorian as he ground his ass down on the throbbing cock inside him, his soft lips parted in a growling moan.  
  
Dorian couldn't resist anymore and he seized Kaim by back of the neck, pulling him down atop his chest before gripping him firmly by the ass cheeks, lifting his hips, digging his heels into the bed and pounding into the elf as hard and fast as possible. Kaim wrapped around him in response, their bodies entwined, his hand on the back of Dorian's head, pulling  it to his shoulder where he bit down on the flexed muscle he found there, his hips never letting up their desperate pace.  
  
" _Vhenan_ ," Kaim whispered against his ear and that was it, Dorian’s hips bucked up forcefully as he came so hard he saw white for a moment and felt Kaim follow immediately after, thick ropes of hot seed coating both their stomachs. Despite the sweat and stickiness they enveloped one another so firmly it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Hot tears fell against Dorian's neck as Kaim buried his face against him, his breathing ragged for more than one reason.  
  
"Kaim-?" Dorian's breath hitched, afraid he'd hurt the elf. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I missed you so much." The words were so brimming with emotion that Dorian felt his own eyes mist over as he wrapped his arms more firmly around the leaner body, his palm rubbing soothing circles against his back. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again." The waiver in his voice brought Dorian's hand up to cup the back of his head, almost desperate to make up for their loneliness as he placed kisses along his forehead.  
  
"I am here now and I will never leave you again," he promised, his own tears leaving tracks on his cheeks as he felt Kaim wind tighter around him.  
  
Time slipped by heedless as they just laid there, basking in one another’s presence and their closeness. After a while though Kaim’s muscles began to cramp and he stretched out, allowing Dorian to slip out of him as he settled in the bed next to his lover, who flipped onto his side and curled around him.  
  
“Was that elvish?” the mage asked curiously. “It wasn’t Tevene, or at least it was a word I didn’t recognize.” His fingers trailed lazy shapes into Kaim’s back.  
  
“Mhm…” Kaim’s soft sound of affirmation was less than articulate. “Yes,” he murmured, “it literally means Heart, the ‘my’ is implied. It’s a term of endearment amongst Dalish clans. Reserved for lovers or spouses.”  
  
“How appropriate,” Dorian chuckled, scooping Kaim’s chin up with his forefinger and thumb to turn his face up so he could claim a soft kiss.  
  
“Dorian,” Kaim began softly when they pulled back, curling against Dorian’s chest like a satisfied cat, “Why did it take you so long to come find me? I had almost given up hope of seeing you again.” His voice was so soft and hesitant, Dorian could veritably hear the insecurity there, the doubt, the nagging suspicions, and though part of him wanted to stiffen in indignation against Kaim’s apparent lack of faith in him, another part of his mind reminded him of Kaim’s situation. It had been a long, lonely, hardship ridden road for Kaim, and he deserved answers. When Dorian left him on the Imperial Highway he HAD promised to follow after as soon as he could, or to send word. Neither of which he did for a very long time.  
  
“Well, first, as I told you it took much fighting and expense in the lower Senate to purchase your freedom. It took me over two years to accomplish.” His arms wrapped Kaim tighter against this chest, laying kisses into his hairline in between sentences.  
  
“Two years...but...it didn’t take you two years to find me...did it?” it was hard for Kaim to keep the hurt out of his voice, and he traced shapes into Dorian’s chest with one finger, staring at the wide expanse of skin.  
  
“At that point it had been so long. I had no idea where to even begin my search. And the alliances I had made were fragile at best, if I abandoned them then they would have crumbled and all the work I’d done with the reformists would have been for naught. I wanted to so badly it hurt, but I couldn’t risk it yet. The night my father attacked me I determined they were stable enough to stand on their own. I have several powerful magisters overseeing them and I’m in contact with them semi-regularly,” he explained. “To be honest I considered remaining in Tevinter a while longer. There were several other magisters who would have taken me in, but my father’s attack told me it was past time I took my leave, I had overstayed my welcome. And I needed to come find you.”  
  
Kaim nodded. “That makes sense.” From the way Dorian had worded his response Kaim felt fairly sure Dorian wasn’t using him as a last resort. He had places in the Imperium he could have gone. A long sigh tore from him. “I need to go find Cassandra before she comes looking for me again.”  
  
“Have no fear, I think we scarred her for life. I doubt she will do any bursting into rooms uninvited anytime soon,” Dorian chuckled and Kaim laughed.  
  
“Indeed.” He crawled to the edge of the bed and began retrieving his clothing. “When I come back for the evening I’ll tell you all about Lavellan and my ‘adventures’ with the  Dalish,” Kaim promised.  
  
“Oh, this should be rich. Were you teased for being ‘pampered’?” he asked with a grin.  
  
“How’d you know?” Kaim raised a brow with a smile, slipping on his leather pants.  
  
“I had my fair share of camping in the wilderness on the road from Minrathous, and you were just as pampered as me in those four years you were in my house,” he grinned and Kaim laughed.  
  
“Yes, I suppose I was. Silk clothing, savory meals, posh cushions to lounge and read on,” he chuckled. “Who knew I would actually miss Tevinter?”  
  
“I just miss being rich,” Dorian stretched languidly with a smile.  
  
“Oh, don’t do that,” Kaim complained with a flirtatious smile, his eyes trailing Dorian’s nude figure. “I’ll never leave this room at this rate!”  
  
“I have absolutely no problem with this,” the Tevinter snagged Kaim by the arm and pulled him down for another searing kiss.  
  
Kaim pulled away after a moment with a laugh. “No. Bad mage. I have work I need to do.” He stood and pulled his cotton undershirt over his head, but then his eyes darted back to Dorian on the bed. “Fuck.”  
  
“Exactly!” Dorian laughed and grabbed Kaim’s shirt, dragging him back over to the bed.  
  
\---  
  
Over an hour later Kaim finally found Cassandra in the sparring yard. Immediately she took in his flushed features, bright eyes, and shy smile, coloring a little herself, knowing exactly what the reason was behind Kaim’s appearance.  
  
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Seeker,” he said apologetically.  
  
They spoke on matters of the Inquisition for a little while.  
  
“So,” Cassandra changed the subject, “Dorian seems to have...made himself at home,” she said pointedly, arching an eyebrow at Kaim who flushed brightly.  
  
“Yes, well…” he floundered a bit. This whole relationship thing was new to him.  
  
“If he has forced himself on you-” Cassandra snarled.  
  
“What?! No!! _Vishante_ _kaffas_! No! What is wrong with all of you?! First Vivienne and now you?” Kaim’s face twisted in rage and Cassandra quickly calmed.  
  
“I meant no disrespect-”  
  
“That’s what Vivienne said too!” Kaim snapped. Clearly this was an issue that was very sensitive.  
  
“Truly Kaim, I am only worried for you. As I imagine Vivienne was as well. We are just looking out for your best interests. You must understand how all this looks, we all hear terrible things out of Tevinter, then our Herald is a former slave? And is now in...relations with the man who used to own him? I know he means much to you, however this is a very real stigma that you will be fighting against. It is important that those around you understand your relationship so we can help you,” Cassandra explained.  
  
“I-” Kaim paused with a frustrated exhale, his shoulders practically deflating, “I know I’m being sensitive about this...I can’t help it. I didn’t even want anyone to know about my past as a slave. Now not only does that seem to be EVERYONE’S business, but so apparently is my love life. It was the first thing Vivienne asked about.” Even his ears appeared to droop slightly. This was going to be a long, rocky journey, he could already tell.  
  
“I know. And please, we really are just looking out for you. Not everyone will be, but your inner circle is. Trust us on that.” She laid  a comforting hand on his shoulder and he nodded. "If you truly believe he will be good to you and that he is not taking advantage of you-"  
  
"I do," Kaim said quickly. "If all of you knew how much he is giving up to be here you wouldn't question him so severely. I know, I made the same journey he did. That's a long, exhausting, hazardous trip to make alone, on foot. Dorian gave up his family name, his fortune, the comforts of his estates. He gave all of it up to come and find me."  
  
Cassandra nodded slowly. "I understand. But no one else does. It will not be an easy road for either of you, Kaim." Her voice was heartfelt.  
  
"No, the easy road would have been never leaving Tevinter in the first place. For both of us." With that he stepped off. There were other members of the Inquisition he needed to speak with.  
  
\---  
  
“So...Dorian was your master?” Bull asked him abruptly.  
  
A long string of Tevene that almost made Bull’s ears blush erupted from Kaim. “What?! Now you too?!” Kaim snarled.  
  
“Calm down, boss. If you’re from Tevinter you know my people’s relations with the magisters,” he entreated casually. “I’ve seen some of the atrocities they’ve committed. Some of them, clearly not all. I have no quarrel with your friend and I hold no judgement either. Just wondering where you actually stood.” Bull crossed his massive arms over his chest and cocked his head at the elf, tilted slightly so he could see him better with his one good eye. It made Kaim simultaneously happy and embarrassed that Bull always sat down to speak with him, and he was STILL almost taller than he was.  
  
“I...yeah, sorry,” Kaim muttered.  
  
Bull was a people watcher. It came with being a spy, but Kaim always threw him. Of course now he knew why, Kaim had mastered the emotionless slave front and adapted it to his everyday life. It made him incredibly hard to read. Except when it came to Dorian. When Dorian was involved Kaim was a neverending font of roiling emotion. Mostly good ones. Except when someone threatened Dorian, or accused Dorian of mistreating him. The response was...interesting, and unexpected. For having been his slave Kaim was certainly very protective of the man.  
  
"It's...complicated. Dorian's the reason I'm not a slave anymore," Kaim shifted his feet, drawing in the dirt with his toe.  
  
"Yeah, I heard he spent a fortune on your freedom," Bull snickered, remembering their conversation on the road.  
  
"That wasn't what I meant. I had been through...well, a good way to put it would be those reconditioning trainers of the Qun. I wasn't...I wasn't a person anymore. I hadn't been since I was twelve years old. Dorian bought me when I was sixteen and he taught me how to...be me again. He had me choose what clothing I liked, I chose what colors I wanted. He taught me how to read, let me choose titles that interested me. He bought me books on the strategy of war because I enjoyed them, which is funny because he hated books like that." A small chuckle escaped Kaim at the memories.  
  
"That." Bull pointed right at Kaim's face, his hulking frame leaned forward, his other hand on his knee, that one good eye trained unflinchingly on Kaim's face. "That right there is why I believe you. Not the words, not the stories of how wonderful he is, or how wonderful he convinced you to think he is...It's that nostalgic expression, that glimmer in your eyes as you recall genuinely fond memories. He made you happy." The last word was emphasized.  
  
"Yes," Kaim said firmly. "And he still does."  
  
"That's good enough for me." Bull leaned back with a smirk, his hands cupped behind his head, relaxed.  
  
"That's it?" Kaim’s face turned blank in confusion.  
  
"When you know how to read people it's easy to pick the truth from fiction. You can't fake happiness, not true happiness anyway. And capture-bonding is more obsessive than what you're expressing. I believe you. And neither of you will receive grief from me or my men. We'll defend you both." Kaim couldn't tell if he winked or just blinked normally.  
  
"I-...Thank you. That means a lot. Really," Kaim told him with feeling.  
  
"My pleasure. Just let me know if someone's giving you a hard time. I'll set 'em straight." Bull's enormous hand balled into a fist to demonstrate his point and Kaim realized it was easily half the width of his torso. "That having been said, he and I aren't likely to see eye to eye on quite a few things," Bull gestured nonchalantly at his one eye.  
  
"I doubt it will be a problem. I was Tevinter raised as well and we haven't had issues yet, have we?" Kaim raised a brow with a small smile.  
  
"Not yet. But then you've been rather reserved thus far." Bull grinned at him. “From what I’ve gathered of your personality you’re a...live and let live kinda guy. That’s NOT the immediate impression I got from Dorian, but we’ll have to see, won’t we?” The qunari grinned widely.  
  
“Okay, yes. You’re right there. Dorian feels strongly about the Imperium, but please remember he’s a reformist. It’s part of the reason he finally decided to leave to come find me, he was taking a lot of political heat for his views. He’s become a rather vocal pariah, but he WAS Tevinter raised, and he makes mistakes, like any other person,” Kaim’s mind sifted back through memories, thinking about when Dorian first purchased him and the first time Kaim snapped at him. A giggle bubbled out of him.  
  
A smile quirked Bull’s lips, watching Kaim take a trip down memory lane was an interesting experience. There was clearly a lot of love there. “Something funny?”  
  
“I’m…” he tamped down on his giggles, “I’m just remembering the day I was...delivered to Dorian. He didn’t have any idea what to even do with me. He’d never owned a slave before me and he kept telling me I was free to do what I wanted. I just sat there staring at him. I thought he was insane or that he was tricking me. Gods he’s a dork.” He giggled again. Moment by moment Bull was feeling better and better about the situation. Kaim really DIDN’T think of him as a master he needed to return to.  
  
Kaim caught control of himself and cleared his throat, still grinning. “I’ve got other people I need to see. Thanks for chatting with me Bull...and for...understanding.” The smile he gave Bull was the widest and most genuine smile he’d seen the elf make yet.  
  
“No, thank you, Kaim,” Bull said pointedly with a grin.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim listened to the advisors argue with thinly veiled irritation. Templars, mages, they seemed more interested in the political blowback of dealing with either side than dealing with the extreme dangers at hand.  
  
“Are you all forgetting the key fact that Alexius is in control of TIME magic? That he is making these rifts worse and could possibly tear a hole through time and destroy the very fabric of the universe? Am I the only one thinking this is more important?” It was impossible to keep the snark out of his tone and his eyes glittered as they moved from one advisor to the next.  
  
“Of course not, which is why I’m here,” Dorian said grandly as he came bursting into the war room. “Alexius is a grave danger to us all, he can directly influence the future of this war, and it would be foolish to ignore him as a threat. Orlesian Inquisition or not,” Dorian said pointedly.  
  
“There must be a way into Redcliff. Water ways? Sewers? Anything?” Kaim leaned on the table, staring at the map.  
  
“There’s nothing I know of that would work,” Cullen said quietly.  
  
Leliana’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, there is a secret passage into the castle. An escape route for the family. It’s too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through.”  
  
“Too risky,” Cullen interjected. “Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister.”  
  
“That’s why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?” Leliana’s mouth quirked in a small smile.  
  
“While they’re focused on Lavellan we break the magister’s defenses,” Cullen looked thoughtful.  
  
“Lavellan?” Dorian asked.  
  
“That’s my clan name,” Kaim told him with a smile.  
  
“Oh, right. I forgot, Merrill told me that in Kirkwall. It wasn’t a name I recognized so I didn’t think too deeply on it,” Dorian shrugged.  
  
“It could work,” Cullen said pointedly, bringing the conversation back, “but it’s a huge risk.”  
  
“Fortunately you’ll have help,” Dorian chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help.”  
  
“Have his methods changed since I left?” Kaim asked, glancing at Dorian sidelong.  
  
“Indeed. Many of his magical traps have become quite sophisticated. It will be simple to disrupt them, however. Then I’ll make my dramatic entrance and join you.”  
  
“You believe it wise to reveal yourself?” Kaim asked in surprise.  
  
“Of course. If you’re going after Alexius then my place is by your side. At that point our hand is tipped regardless.” Dorian’s statement brought a soft smile to Kaim’s face.  
  
“The plan puts you in the most danger. We can’t in good conscience order you to do this,” Cullen said reluctantly.  
  
“Do they often have you playing bait?” Dorian asked glibly with a chuckle.  
  
“Only when it’s dangerous,” Kaim grinned.  
  
“That’s not-” Josephine began, then paused, “oh, you were joking. Of course,” she smiled sweetly. Within a few minutes they wrapped up their meeting and exited the chantry. Cullen stalked off to ready the troops Leliana had said would be assigned tunnel duty while Kaim and Dorian wandered through Haven.  
  
“I still haven’t had the chance to tell you about the past four years,” Kaim sighed, a stab of sadness shorne through his chest thinking of Tamsas and his lost friendship.  
  
“Well, it’s not like you’re the figurehead of an army, or anything.” Dorian smiled winningly and Kaim leaned into him happily, allowing Dorian to wrap a silk clad arm about his shoulders.  
  
\---  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to the magnanimous [Valka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Valka) without whom this chapter might never have happened. Seriously, there was quite a bit of bawling, whining, bellyaching, and general complaining she put up with during the writing of this chapter. She's also an incredible beta, I don't know how I ever managed without her. And here we go!
> 
> Kaim and Dorian are finally together again, but are things conspiring to tear them apart again?

“So, Silky Pants stuck ya wid ‘is winkey?” Sera asked with a shit eating grin.  
  
Kaim blinked at her a few times.  
  
“Oh, come off it! The whole friggin’ village could hear you two! At least it sounded good for you, yeah?” She leaned into him and elbowed his ribs conspiratorially.  
  
“I am RIGHT here, you know?” Dorian asked, clearing his throat a little uncomfortably with a chuckle.  
  
“Well wut you eavesdroppin’ for?” Sera glowered up at him.  
  
“We are ALL right here, and we can ALL hear you,” Blackwall muttered, trudging behind the Inquisition soldiers who planned on using the tunnel in Redcliff. It was a hot, uncomfortable day and the dust of the road was sticking to all exposed skin like flour to condensation.  
  
"Rude." Sera crossed her arms, but she winked at Kaim.  
  
"So, I take it everyone is now privy to the relationship status of the Herald?" Dorian asked with a chuckle, surprise filtering through him at the uncomfortable expression that flashed across Kaim's features.  
  
"If by that you mean we are all aware he's with the magister and man who used to own him, then yes," Blackwall drawled the last word.  
  
"For the last time, I am NOT a magister, and to refer to me thus only makes you sound like an uncultured barbarian," Dorian sniffed, brushing at the silk of his robes, valiantly attempting to dislodge the dust.  
  
"Rather an uncultured barbarian than a hedonistic blood mage from Tevinter," Blackwall muttered, shifting his plate uncomfortably.  
  
"Indeed, because no one is ever a break from the stereotype. I guess that means ALL Fereldens smell like dog. At least I know what soap is and which end of a razor is the business end."  
  
"Is this going to be a problem, gentlemen?" Kaim almost snapped, glancing between the two humans in irritation.  
  
"No. Apologies Herald. No problem." Blackwall was immediately contrite, though he sent a withering glance the mage's way.  
  
"Me? Cause a stir? Perish the thought!" Even his most charming smile failed to bring more than a soft, distracted smile from Kaim.  
  
It was a little while before Dorian could pull Kaim aside.  
  
"Something troubles you?" he asked gently, his fingers slipped in the crook of Kaim's elbow guiding him away from the group, his voice lowered.  
  
A wearied expression crossed Kaim's face and he sighed. "I waited so long for you to find me, and now that you're here...it's as though everything is falling down around me. Everyone knows my past, everyone has an opinion on my relationship, Tevinter is even chasing me here now with this fiasco regarding Alexius, and I'm being forced into leading a movement I don’t even agree with.” Kaim ran a frustrated hand through the tendrils of hair pulled loose from his ponytail, only further dislodging pieces.  
  
Dorian narrowed his eyes in sudden understanding and he stopped, leaning on the nearby fence to bring himself closer to Kaim’s height, heedless of the troops continuing on without them. “You do not believe you are the Herald do you?”  
  
Kaim sighed, blue green eyes dropped to the dusty road as he kicked it uncomfortably. “Why would I? I don’t even believe in Andraste. Oh, I’m sure there was actually a woman named Andraste, just like I believe there was an elf named Elgar’nan. But I don’t believe they are deities. This is just…” he looked down at his glowing palm, “magic we don’t understand yet.”  
  
“I believe in _you_ ,” Dorian said abruptly.  
  
“You...you what?” Kaim’s eyes flew impossibly wide.  
  
“I believe the Maker sent you, whether through Andraste or fate. Cassandra was not wrong. You were what we needed most at the precise moment we needed it. That’s what they will say in ages to come. And that you turned out to be my Kaim? Divine providence? We may never know.” Dorian spoke with a sincerity that shocked Kaim to silence for a few moments.  
  
“You’re Andrastian? How did I not know this?”  
  
Dorian chuckled at Kaim’s stupor. “Just because I’ve always believed the Chantry to be a relic of a bygone age, desperately clinging to relevance, does not mean I do not have _belief_. We never spoke on the subject is all. I felt that you...that circumstance may have colored your perception on the matter, and that it was not a prudent subject to broach.” The frankness in Dorian’s tone brought things into sharp relief for Kaim.  
  
Dorian believed he was the _Herald of Andraste_. A stab of something distressing shot through Kaim’s chest, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Disappointment? Fear? Irritation? How could Dorian believe he was chosen of a god Kaim didn’t even believe existed? And even if he DID exist, how DARE he? After all Kaim went through, after all he suffered, all those times Kaim NEEDED someone, where was he? Where was he when that magister owned him? Where was he when cruel fingers bit into twelve year old flesh? Where was he when-?  
  
Kaim’s stomach lurched and he staggered backward a few steps. In a flash Dorian was by his side.  
  
“ _Amatus_? What’s wrong?”  
  
Ebony hair danced as Kaim shook his head somewhat violently. “I’m...I don’t want to talk about this,” he managed through the thickness in his throat that threatened to choke him, refusing to look up at Dorian’s sympathetic face. Dorian knew it was a subject he shouldn’t have broached and he cursed himself soundly in his head for having said anything. Regret squeezed his chest as Kaim pushed away and continued after the group, now a good distance down the road. A torrid sigh escaped Dorian and he strode quickly to catch up.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim skipped up the few steps to the carved Ferelden throne, eyeing Alexius who rose to his feet, his gaze flicking briefly to Felix before returning to the magister who had a pleasant smile plastered on his face.  
  
“Kaim,” he held out his arms in welcome, his tone dripping with false friendship, “you don’t know what good it does my heart to know you survived all those years ago.”  
  
“Yes, we were such good friends while I stood against your wall like a well behaved slave. You got to know me well, didn’t you?” Kaim couldn’t seem to stop the sarcasm laden in each word.  
  
“Dorian was certainly partial to you,” the magister chuckled humorlessly. “I remember long nights of study in my library, study a slave of your standing should never have been able to keep up with. Yet there you stood, assisting Dorian. What a scandal it would have been. Perhaps it was good Halward attempted to get rid of you when he did. You might have ruined Dorian.” _There_ was the venom.  
  
"Considering I helped him pass magical theory much earlier than any other _Altus_ , I can hardly concede your point." Kaim's hands gravitated to his hips, adopting a stance he saw Dorian use often when speaking to someone who was superior in station while wanting to appear at ease and unimpressed.  
  
"I think," Alexius said slowly, almost lazily, meandering in an unhurried manner across the dais, "that perhaps you benefited more from the arrangement than Dorian did." Those eyes glittered as they considered him, much harder, with more internalized pain than Kaim had last seen. What had happened to Alexius?  
  
"Ah yes, with no rights, no life of my own, my fate belonging to whomever happened to take a fancy to me. Yes, Dorian educated me to make me useful. Don’t you DARE pretend you don't know what kind of life I had before then." Kaim's glare was challenging and the two men stared one another down for a few, long moments.  
  
“I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.” Alexius moved on without acknowledging Kaim's words, the sordid level  Alexius had descended to astounded Kaim. He hadn’t remembered the magister being this skeezy. Then again, a lot can happen in four years.  
  
“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?” Grand Enchanter Fiona stepped forward, a decidedly angry expression on her face.  
  
“That is precisely what I meant when I said you had no idea what you were consigning yourselves to. Slaves HAVE no voice in the Imperium. Trust me, I know.” Kaim turned back to face Alexius with a scowl.  
  
“The young Herald speaks truly, Fiona. You would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives,” Alexius told her with a quirked smile.  
  
“And all your LIVES are what he owns now,” Kaim informed her. Alexius returned to his newly acquired throne with a smug smile, leaning back against the carved wood, clearly believing he had the upper hand. "Let's drop the pretenses, magister." Kaim allowed the word to linger in distaste, showing his disdain for everything Alexius stood for, and a shadow crossed the magister's face. The disrespect grated on Alexius' nerves, exactly what Kaim wanted. "What could you possibly gain from acquiring a few hundred mages, old people, and kids who've known nothing but life in the circles? No, you're not here for them. You're here for me. And that irks you. You’re here because a lowly, escaped slave actually has the power to stop you."  
  
Alexius darkened two shades of red. And paydirt. Alexius immediately began spouting the agenda of this...Elder One off the cuff, bragging about the designs of the venatori leader. Felix stepped in, begging his father to see reason and asking if he realized how he sounded.  
  
“He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliche everyone expects us to be.” Dorian rounded the pillar and stepped up boldly next to Kaim.  
  
“I should have known,” Alexius sneered. “Where this whelp would be _you_ wouldn’t be sniffing far behind.” His gracious veneer dropped and he glared down the dais at them in open disdain. “I _knew_ you would bring Dorian nothing but trouble!” Alexius pointed an accusing finger at Kaim. “I knew it from the moment he brought your skinny-” Alexius visibly composed himself. “Dorian, I gave you a chance to be a part of this and you turned  me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.”  
  
“Right, because joining a world ending cult is always the solution to the reigning political problems,” Kaim replied, shrugging his shoulders with undisguised sarcasm.  
  
“It’s a chance for the Imperium to one up that whole ‘starting the blight’ thing,” Dorian chuckled, his lips quirked in a smile.  
  
“He will make the world bow to mages once more! We will rule from the Boric Oceans to the Frozen Seas!” Alexius was really beginning to sound like he’d lost a few key marbles along the way.  
  
“You can’t involve my people in this!” Fiona protested hotly, shaking her head.  
  
“Slaves, remember? You don’t get a say,” Kaim told her flatly.  
  
“Alexius,” Dorian entreated, “this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! Why would you support this?” But Alexius had turned his back on him, rendering him unreadable.  
  
“Stop it, father!” Felix begged him. “Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach and let’s go home.”  
  
“No! It’s the only way Felix,” Alexius turned, agony etched in every feature, the visage of a man shattering slowly inside. “He can save you.”  
  
“Save me?” Felix exclaimed, anger tingeing his voice.  
  
“There is a way,” Alexius said slowly and Kaim raised his eyebrows. Save Felix? “The Elder One promised, if I undo the mistake at the temple.” Alexius turned his head and glared at Kaim.  
  
“I’m going to die,” Felix interrupted him hotly. “You need to accept that.”  
  
“Felix, what is-” Kaim advanced a step up.  
  
“Seize them, Venatori!” Alexius burst out. “The Elder One demands this slave’s life!” Alexius stared around the room in shock as each of his guards collapsed to the floor, Inquisition soldiers stepping into their places.  
  
“Alexius, please. You’ve failed. Whatever is going on the Inquisition has resources, maybe we can help-” Kaim advanced a few more steps toward the throne.  
  
“You are a _mistake_!” Alexius snarled, falling back a step. His hand lifted and malevolent magic swirled around his fist. “You should never have existed!” With that his palm opened, an amulet floating above it, teal magic crackling and snapping, swirling in vicious tendrils about his outstretched hand.  
  
Dorian recognized the spell.  
  
“NO!” Before Kaim could react or stop him, Dorian leapt between him and the magic, his staff outstretched, a spell kindled along his fingertips. The magics collided opening a swirling vortex. The last thing Kaim saw before darkness overtook was the whirlwind folding over them.

\---

Kaim felt as if he was being ripped apart, simultaneously pulled in every direction, sliding on a current he was incapable of detecting, unable to see anything at all. This only worsened the vertigo Although Kaim had an inkling that had he been able to see his opinion would have changed drastically. They would never know.  
  
Moments later it felt as though he was literally spat out, landing with a graceless splash in tepid water. The stagnant smell stung his nostrils and his nose wrinkled in distaste as he staggered to his feet, the dark water sloshing over his boots. In reflex his hand shot out to steady Dorian, who seemed as disoriented as he.  
  
Fortunately, the Venatori guards were just as surprised. Kaim’s daggers slipped into his fingers before Dorian had a chance to shout a warning and Kaim leapt from the water, clearing the first guard’s height and landing on his shoulders. Both daggers slashed downward with his weight, crimson spurting in fans in his wake. Before the first guard’s body had a chance to fall Kaim was spinning, dodging the strike of the second guard’s sword. His feet touched down with a splash and he parried several thrusts. He locked the hilt of the sword with both daggers as his adversary burst into flames. Kaim leapt back as the Venatori was engulfed in magical fire, screaming in agony before falling into the grey water with a hiss.  
  
Both daggers flicked through his fingers, flinging the blood from the blades. Kaim’s glittering eyes watched the droplets like wine in water as he sheathed the daggers on his back.  
  
“Displacement? Interesting,” Dorian sounded distracted as he glanced around.  
  
“That was a rift. Alexius opened a rift and somehow we got sucked in,” Kaim muttered brusquely, his thumb pressed over the green gash in his palm. Their foray through the rift left it feeling odd, tingly, like his hand was waking from numbness.  
  
“It’s probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us...to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?” Dorian peered around them, trying to get his bearings.  
  
“We’re still in Redcliff castle,” Kaim said as he looted the bodies of the guards, looking for the key to the locked gate before them.  
  
“Let’s see. If we’re still in the castle, it isn’t...oh! Of course! It’s not simply where--it’s when! Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!”  
  
“No need to sound so excited, Dorian,” Kaim chuckled, despite the situation, a triumphant sound escaping him when he fished out the key and carried it over to the gate. “But it sounds like he managed to get the time magic bound to an amulet the way you two had been discussing. Did we go forward or back? And how far?”  
  
“Those are excellent questions, and we’ll have to find out, won’t we? Let’s look around, see when the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back...if we can,” Dorian muttered the last part and Kaim gave him an unimpressed eyebrow raise.  
  
“Your confidence is uplifting, truly,” Kaim said disparagingly. “Clearly this was not his intention, what was he trying to do?”  
  
“I believe his original plan was to remove you from time completely. If that happened, you would never have been at the temple of Sacred Ashes or mangled his Elder One’s plan. I think your surprise in the castle hall made him reckless. He tossed us into the rift before he was ready. I countered it, the magic went wild, and here we are.” Dorian followed after Kaim as they trudged out of the water, following the dimly lit hallways, their boots squishing uncomfortably.  
  
“Hasn’t he ever heard of temporal distortions?” Kaim chuckled softly as he checked the corners and adjacent rooms for enemies or clues to the timeline.  
  
“Temporal distortions?” Dorian asked, his voice quirked in question.  
  
“You didn’t read the book by the ancient magisters on the risks of time magic? The one that talked about separate dimensions and running the risk of crossing one over into another? For example, if this is a possible future, then this future belongs to another time table, we could be damaging that timetable by crossing over where we don’t belong.” Kaim’s explanation was patient and straightforward, a complete contrast to his posture, stalking through the hallways, his head tilting to and fro, listening for threats.  
  
“Time magic. Bring time into the equation and everything goes to hell,” Dorian muttered peevishly. “But don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” The grandness of his tone brought a bubbling chuckle from Kaim and Dorian couldn’t stop his smile. He really didn’t like it when he and Kaim were at cross purposes, and Kaim hadn’t given him a real smile since before their discussion on the road.  
  
“ _Amatus_ ,” he said slowly, reaching a hand to cup Kaim’s smaller one, surprising the elf. “Will you talk to me, please? It’s not as easy to read you as it once was.” His head shook slightly as he gazed down at the man who meant everything to him. “Time and experience has changed you, and until I get to know you again you’re going to have to talk to me.” The entreaty in Dorian’s eyes melted Kaim.  
  
The tension bled from Kaim’s shoulders. “What would you know?” His question was soft.  
  
“You immediately closed me off once I confessed I believed in you, and I have never broached the subject of religion with you. But it was clear by your reaction that your disagreement is severe. You said you don’t believe in gods, but I feel the issue runs deeper.” His eyes were gentle as he spoke and Kaim huffed uncomfortably.  
  
“I…” Kaim’s mouth clicked shut and he sighed deeply. “How can I believe in a benevolent deity after…” his throat threatened to close over, “after everything that’s happened to me? Where were they when...when I...when that magister...” he couldn’t even get the words out and he looked away uncomfortably, his face and neck burning.  
  
It wholly surprised him when Dorian’s arms wrapped around him, his face buried in the hair next to his ponytail. “I cannot answer that, but I know how strong you are because of it. And that you, of all the people in Thedas, were the one to receive the mark is astonishing.” Dorian gently lifted Kaim’s hand, his thumb traced over the green glowing gash affectionately. “The Maker, the elven gods, they aren’t meant to make our lives easier, they’re meant to give us hope. Hope that all this is for a reason, that there is something bigger than either of us.”  
  
Kaim simply buried his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck, breathing deeply of his scent, allowing its calming influence to wash over him. Perhaps Dorian had a point. After all, against all odds they were back together weren’t they?  
  
“And I would like to believe that out of all the slaves in Tevinter, something, or someone was watching over you, that we were meant to be the light at the end of the tunnel, the one Tevinter who never wanted a slave, and the slave surviving impossible happenstance becoming the hope who leads us all.” The fingers of Dorian’s other hand tangled in his silken ponytail, stroking through it before Kaim pulled back a little.  
  
“Are you saying you believe our relationship was predetermined by the Maker?” Kaim asked, the distaste obvious on his features.  
  
“No, of course not. But precisely like everything else that’s happened, you were exactly what I needed, when I needed it,” Dorian pressed their foreheads together. Kaim’s neck arched to meet him and he forced himself to breathe deeply. “Perhaps the Maker ensured you were the dancer for that night and canceled my other plans so I had no recourse but to attend.” A fond smile flitted across Dorian’s handsome features. “I still have dreams about those moments when I first laid eyes on you.” His smile turned coy and Kaim snorted.  
  
“I could requisition some veils and jewelry, though I’m sure that would raise a few eyebrows.” The offer was accompanied by a large, genuine smile and Dorian devoured it, pleased when Kaim surged up onto his toes, attempting to press himself as close as possible.  
  
“Not to...pose as a reminder of where you’ve been,” Dorian breathed when they parted from lack of oxygen, “but I would never say ‘no’ to your offering to dance for me. And if you’re wearing nothing but veils and jewels then so much the better.” Dorian grinned when Kaim giggled and pulled him back down into another searing kiss.  
  
\---  
Gathering the imprisoned members of Kaim’s party, then searching the ruined castle for the lyrium shards that would open the door to the Great Hall took a toll on Kaim, one that Dorian was incapable of soothing. The future was a bleak one if they did not manage to succeed, and that weight rested heavily on Kaim’s heart and mind. This was what the future looked like without him. All thoughts of leaving the Inquisition in the dead of night faded from Kaim's mind. No, he may still not believe he was the Maker’s chosen, but neither did he believe the Inquisition would get along fine without him. This future proved that.  
  
Dorian watched Kaim worriedly as he shoved the shards into the slots on the door with more force than was necessary and practically kicked it open, storming his way to the dais where Alexius stood in an eerie, darker reflection of hours earlier. Off to one side a gnarled, tainted figure crouched, their clothes covered in filth rendering them unrecognizable. Why would Alexius keep such a wretched creature around?  
  
“Alexius!” Kaim called out sharply. “Stop this madness! Give me the amulet and let me end this!”  
  
“And here you are, finally,” Alexius muttered quietly, as though he hadn’t heard Kaim. “I knew you would appear again. Not that it would be now. But I knew I hadn’t destroyed you. My final failure.” Something was wrong. Alexius appeared so much older than a year should have aged him, his shoulders stooping as though in defeat.  
  
“Was it worth it? Everything you did to the world? To yourself?” Dorian demanded.  
  
“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end.” Alexius’ voice resonated despondence.  
  
“Nothing has to end,” Kaim bit out tersely. “We can fix this! Just give up, let us-”  
  
Alexius chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, the slave become Herald. How does it feel to be a religious icon, Kaim? How inspiring your story! The rise of a lowly slave to the heights of a hero, leading his own army of fanatics. The irony that you should appear _now_ , of all the possibilities. All that I fought for, all that I betrayed, and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One comes: for me, for you, for us all. Nothing you say matters, little slave.”  
  
Kaim bristled, a low gutteral sound escaping his throat. Only the security of Dorian’s palm on his bicep kept the elf in check.  
  
Leliana chose that moment to snatch up the gnarled shell of a man crouching to one side and hold a dagger to his throat. Alexius whirled around with a cry of alarm. “Felix!”  
  
“That’s Felix? Maker’s breath, Alexius, what have you done?” Dorian let go of Kaim and took a few surprised steps forward, his face twisted in anger and agony.  
  
“He would have died, Dorian! I _saved_ him!” Alexius wailed.  
  
“You didn’t save him! You turned him into a mindless husk!” Kaim’s heart broke for the once vibrant young man.  
  
“Please, don’t hurt my son. I’ll do anything you ask,” Alexius begged Leliana.  
  
“Alexius, I’m begging you! Give us the amulet!” Kaim almost shouted, his desperation beginning to show. The longer they tarried here the higher the chance they may never leave at all.  
  
“I want the world back,” Leliana hissed before she drew the knife across Felix’s throat.  
  
“NO!!!”  
  
“ _Venhedis_ , Leliana!” Kaim cursed. They would have words when he got back. It wasn’t the same Leiana, no, but that hardly mattered at the moment.  
  
With an agonized howl of rage Alexius attacked them. Even drunk with anger and sorrow Alexius was a masterful mage, and extremely powerful. There was no surrender, no reason, he threw himself into the fight until there was nothing left. Out of respect, Kaim backed off and let Dorian cast the killing blow, knowing that, despite everything, they had been close friends. Kaim laid a supporting hand on his shoulder when Dorian knelt by the body to retrieve the amulet.  
  
“He wanted to die, didn’t he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications...He lost Felix long ago and didn’t even notice. Oh, Alexius...” Dorian bowed his head, allowing himself a moment to grieve the friend possessed by madness.  
  
“Dorian, if we can fix this, if we can use the amulet to get back, then we can reverse this future. Alexius doesn’t have to end up this way,” Kaim told him, his voice laden with sadness.  
  
“You’re right, of course,” Dorian admitted, straightening, the amulet rolling loose across his palm. “This is the same amulet he used before. I think it’s the same one we made in Minrathous. That’s a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift.”  
  
“An hour? That’s impossible! You must go now!” Leliana snapped, approaching them. As though right on cue a terrifyingly loud roar shook the rafters. The castle trembled, and debris showered down around them. “The Elder One,” Leliana whispered.  
  
“There’s no time; it must be done _now_ ,” Blackwall insisted firmly. He and Sera shared a look. “We’ll hold the door; do your thing and fix this. We’ll be there on the other side,” the Grey Warden said firmly as he pulled his shield.  
  
“But that’s suicide!” Kaim’s voice was ragged with horror.  
  
“It’s alright, yeah? You let silky pants do the magic, you stop this crud, it’s all fixed. Never gonna happen? It’s all good then,” Sera told him with a faltering smile, before throwing her arms around Kaim’s neck.  
  
“Sera,” he choked out, holding her tightly to him. The castle shook again.  
  
“Look at us. We’re already dead. The only way we live is if this day never comes. Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows,” she told him defiantly as Sera and Blackwall closed the door behind themselves, locking it.  
  
Dorian dashed to the dais. “You must stand exactly as we were when the spell took hold,” he snatched Kaim’s arm and yanked him more roughly than he’d intended, trying to ignore the agonized look on his face as he glanced back over his shoulder at the people valiantly giving them time.  
  
The amulet erupted in rays of magic, filling the Great Hall with malevolent teal green shards of light, cutting the oppressive air. Dorian’s hands moved expertly, manipulating the fade. He said he’d need an hour, Kaim glanced worriedly between the floating amulet and his concentrating eyes. The sounds of combat outside drew his attention again and he whirled back around, desperation painted across his face. Every ounce of him screamed with the desire to throw himself into the fight, to protect the ones he’d begun to call friends. They were dying for him! So he could fix the future, yes, but that didn't’ negate the sacrifice.  
  
A pained shriek rent the air and Kaim lurched forward, caught firmly in Dorian’s grip on his bicep.  
  
“You move, and we all die!” Dorian told him harshly before returning to his casting.  
  
The doors shattered inward, demons and Venatori bursting through. A terror demon dragged Blackwall by his head, throwing his body carelessly to the side, another gripped Sera by her quiver harness. Her broken and lifeless body fell gracelessly to the stone, blood pooling violent and red beneath her. A choked sob escaped Kaim and he practically vibrated, almost dancing on his toes, both daggers in hand, clutching them until the leather grips threatened to tear the skin of his palms open.  
  
Dorian watched Kaim through his peripheral vision even as he completed his spell. Kaim’s desire to help his friends was palatable and more than a little heartbreaking. It wasn’t as though Kaim had many people in his life that held meaning for him. To now be forced to watch those precious few die, even if it wasn’t going to remain real, Dorian could only imagine the pain.  
  
The rift flashed, the magic engulfing them, and a dizzying few moments later they were thrown out once more. This time Kaim was ready and remained on his feet, both daggers still clutched with white knuckled grips. A snarl erupted from him as he stalked toward Alexius who had collapsed to his knees on seeing his spell failed.  
  
“Kaim! Remember! This Alexius hasn’t done any of that yet!” Dorian exclaimed, rushing forward to wrap his arms around Kaim bodily holding him back. He eased his grasp on the elf as Kaim stepped back, though none of the tension left his body, leaving Dorian extremely worried. Kaim exhaled a frustrated huff and stalked off to the side, refusing to look at any of them.  
  
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian told Alexius glibly when he finally turned to regard the crestfallen man, a frown crossing his face at the angry look Kaim shot over his shoulder.  
  
“You’ve won. There is no point extending this charade.” Alexius gazed up at his son, features laden with sorrow and regret. “Felix…”  
  
“It’s going to be all right, father.” His son knelt by his side.  
  
“You’ll die.”  
  
“Everyone dies.”  
  
“It’s better than the hell he _would_ have submitted you to,” Kaim snarled.  
  
“ _Amatus_! Now isn’t exactly an appropriate moment.” Dorian was shocked. He’d never known Kaim to be particularly vicious; this entire endeavor clearly affected him greatly. Dorian opened his mouth to speak again but the arrival of Ferelden soldiers made further discourse impossible. He would have to wait until later to speak with Kaim.  
  
\---  
  
The whole thing set Dorian’s teeth on edge. He didn’t believe Kaim was _ignoring_ or avoiding him, per se, however he didn’t exactly seek him out either. The trip back from Redcliff had been conducted in sullen silence, though Kaim’s negotiating skills were rather impressive, Dorian thought.  All those hours of study and reading in Tevinter clearly paid off, Kaim having left the confrontation with the mage’s full support and a promise from Queen Anora that they would share an evening with dinner and entertainment at some point. 

Kaim’s behavior settled an uncomfortable pall over Dorian. Although it appeared one issue had been resolved to a level of satisfaction while they’d been lost in time, there was evidently another threatening to wedge them apart. Witnessing the loss of his followers had a profound affect on Kaim’s psychological well being and now he appeared to be pushing everyone and everything away.  
  
Dorian spied him across the courtyard, walking with a swiftness just short of a jog and he hurried to intercept him.  
  
“Kaim, we haven’t had a moment to speak, and I believe this to be important-”  
  
“Not now, Dorian. We’re gathering the mages to the temple to attempt to close the Breach. Undoubtedly we’ll need your power as well, so it would be wise to join  the gathering mages and I’ll meet you there with Cassandra and the rest of our forces.” Kaim was in full command mode and Dorian would have none of that. He was no _supplicant_ of the Herald.  
  
“ _Amatus_ , please,” Dorian caught him by the elbow, a wellspring of entreaty in his eyes. “You came to bed too late last night for decent conversation. This isn’t easy on either of us; we’ve been four years apart and it takes time to learn the changes, but naught will be accomplished if you avoid me.” Kaim tensed as if to pull away, his eyes fixed on the Chantry door as though wishing he’d made it to the safety within before he sighed gently.  
  
“I’m-” A sigh huffed steam into the air before his lips and he finally turned to face Dorian. “Please be patient with me. I’m not meant for this,” his free sweeping hand took in the packed tents and milling occupants of Haven. “I’m no leader, I’m...I’m not even a good elf!” The scowl that crossed his features was almost comical and Dorian stifled a chuckle.  
  
“You are perfect,” Dorian countered, scooping up both Kaim’s cheeks and pulling him close, reveling in the warmth as Kaim stepped closer, his arms slipping into the draping sleeves of the silken robe to clutch at his  back. “No one is born a leader. Leaders are made, and you are already an incredible one. I was profoundly impressed by your negotiations with Queen Anora. Not entirely keen on the idea of your sharing dinner and _entertainment_ well into the night, but that’s an argument for another time.” He flashed a charming smile when Kaim giggled softly. There was his Kaim.  
  
“I really am busy right now, Dorian. But I promise we’ll talk. _If_ I survive the Breach closing,” he teased as he nuzzled his chilled nose against Dorian’s.  
  
“Bite your tongue!” Dorian chided, pulling back slightly to stare down at Kaim aghast and receiving an irritatingly smug smile for his efforts. The buzz of gossip and conversation made Kaim’s ears twitch and his smile turned strained.  
  
“I need to get going. Tonight,” he promised before he pulled Dorian in for a warm, seeking kiss before disappearing into the Chantry.  
  
\---  
  
"This whole process makes me apprehensive." Kaim ran a nervous thumb over the glowing green tear in his palm. Guilt balled in his gut. He had yet to tell Dorian about the growing hole in his hand, about how every time he used it the magic spread further, about the pain that tore into his chest with each activation, and his fears that it was killing him. Selfishly, he kept the knowledge to himself. He’d only just gotten Dorian back and they’d already had a myriad of issues to work out so worrying him over something they likely could not control wasn’t on the top of his “to-do” list.  
  
Kaim’s eyes flitted to where Dorian stood, and his gaze immediately softened. The mustache was still somewhat jarring, but there was no denying how beautiful Dorian truly was. Every line of his face was regal and well defined, the flashing light of the Breach only accentuating the angles and curves, and _if_ Kaim could actually believe he was blessed of Andraste, then it was at that moment. There was no reason a man like Dorian should love him, and though he  had yet to say it there was no doubt in Kaim’s mind.  
  
“It makes us all nervous,” Cassandra muttered, glaring back at the gathering of former rebel mages uneasily and bringing Kaim back into the moment. Most of his companions had gathered in case something went awry, Sera being the  exception. The presence of so much magic made her extremely uncomfortable, so she remained at Haven in case they all died in a fiery green explosion. Then _she_ could be Herald. Kaim snorted.  
  
“Something amusing?” Cassandra arched an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Just thinking about Sera as the Herald instead of me.” He quirked a grin at the Seeker then threw his head back in an actual laugh at the horrified expression that lodged itself on her face.  
  
“I will pretend you never said something so terrifying,” Cassandra muttered. Kaim’s attention flitted past her to rest on Dorian once more, who had turned and was smiling at him gently, obviously, his attention caught by the sound of Kaim’s laughter. He returned the soft smile.  
  
“Herald. It is time.” Solas’ expression one of stoic sincerity.  
  
Kaim swallowed hard and nodded before stepping down and striding slowly in the direction of the Breach. With each step the mark flared, responding to the magic seeping from the hole in the sky, shooting jagged spasms of pain up his arm.  
  
Dorian stood at the forefront beside Solas, tuning out the elf's voice as he considered the hole in the sky and the rift attached to it. The phenomenon was incredible, never before had he ever seen anything like it, and the closer Kaim got to the Breach the brighter the mark flashed. It hissed and snapped, and from his expression caused him severe discomfort.  
  
Despite the fluttering in Kaim's stomach he raised his hand and activated the not so latent magic in his palm. Rift magic lashed out like a whip, both sides reaching for one another. The Breach pulled at him and the mark pulled back, his shoulder aching as magic coursed through him, the support of the mages pushing at his back forcing the power through his palm. Almost imperceptibly, perhaps even a figment of his imagination, he swore he could feel Dorian’s particular brand of magic. Warmth flooded his chest, pushing back the pain, lending him strength; it was almost as if Dorian’s arms were wrapped around him. His resolve hardened with each moment he pulled at the magic, manipulating the threads.  
  
There were so many! Magic continued to pour into him as he tugged, desperation beginning to boil over. It felt as though the Breach was pulling him out of his body, trying to take away his very soul. The pain became overwhelming and he gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead, tendrils of hair sticking to his neck itching, but he refused to break; this thing would _not_ beat him. He had Dorian. He could accomplish anything as long as he had Dorian.  
  
Throwing the last of his energy against the Breach he yanked with everything he had, drawing his fist back as it suddenly gave. Surprised, Kaim staggered backward, the release of energy blasting over them all, knocking all present flat on their backs with the shockwave. In the confusion Kaim had collapsed to his knees, his right hand clutched over his heart. The pain was excruciating. Quickly he unbuckled his glove and shoved the leather off so he could inspect the tear. It was as he’d feared, the mark had ripped further, now spread over the heel of his palm, small vein like tendrils beginning to wind their way over the side of his palm and curl around his wrist.  
  
As he heard the company stirring behind him he quickly covered it back up and buckled his leather gauntlet back in place. This would not be easy to hide if it kept spreading.  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaim and Dorian have issues to work through, will events to come pull them farther apart? Or will love bind them together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize that I have such a long update schedule, even though I try to maintain a bi-weekly update. But as it is I struggle to meet this. There's no way I can update sooner without sending myself into a panic attack or a break down, so I'm sorry to those of you who sent me messages asking for me to update more regularly. Please understand, I do this for free in my own free time, which is limited to begin with. I work full time and take care of my son full time. What little free time I have I split between writing, drawing, and occasional gaming. And I'm sorry if you are offended that I need time to myself, but you won't get any content at all if I have a break down. So that time for me is kind of necessary. Okay, enough out of me, here is the next update! Enjoy!

The raucous cheering and adoring crowds that greeted them on their return from the temple completely stymied Kaim. People did not pay attention to him, they did not look up to him, and they _certainly_ did not admire and adore him. Yet that was precisely what they were doing and only Cassandra and Dorian’s firm presence at his back kept him from running screaming into the hills in confusion.  
  
Yes, these were the same people who were condemning and calling for his head not so long ago. Yes, he received four or five proposals of marriage and countless gifts before he made it to the sanctuary of the Chantry. Yes, Dorian was laughing hysterically at him. The doors finally closed out the noisy crowds and Kaim leaned on them as though to barricade against the horrors that awaited him outside.  
  
“They’ve all gone mad,” he declared. “Is it possible for everyone at Haven to have been possessed while we were away?” The ensuing snickering brought a glower to his face. “I fail to see the humor.”  
  
“Oh, _Amatus_ ,” Dorian chuckled, wrapping an arm around Kaim’s shoulders and leading him away from the door and the clamor outside. “It is admiration righteously earned.” He laughed harder at the snide eyebrow Kaim raised.   
  
“Perhaps you were possessed as well when I wasn’t looking. Admiration for what? I’ve hardly done anything!” Kaim insisted.  
  
“You used a mark none of us understands and no one else possesses to close a hole in the sky that was tearing apart the world. I’d say that’s cause for admiration.” Cassandra smiled at him.   
  
"And of course you realize that means celebration is inevitable?" Varric snickered. "By the sounds of it they may already be starting."   
  
"A celebration right now would be premature," Cullen argued. "Yes, the Breach is sealed, but we still don't know who opened it or how."   
  
"On the contrary, dear Commander," Vivienne's voice was smooth as cream. "It is essential for morale that these celebrations commence. The Breach has been a source of great fear and despair for the people of Ferelden, and indeed all within sight of the tear. They have seen their prayers answered. Not only should they be allowed this moment of levity, but the Herald needs also to participate, and be seen doing so." Her posture was so regal that all Kaim wanted to do was bump into her to see if he could ruin it.  
  
What had come over him lately? His own thoughts shocked him and he recoiled from the violence in them. All this attention, the responsibility, the duality of his followers, all of it set him on edge. His only desire was to live in quiet happiness with Dorian, but that wasn't in the cards, and may never be. Everything in him wanted to fight this destiny. What had any of these people ever done for him? But after seeing what the future was like without him...he couldn't do that.   
  
Dorian was fighting for a better Tevinter, how could he do any less? Unchecked this threat might swallow all Thedas, Tevinter included. Kaim's hand flexed, the leather obscuring the light in his palm creaked. There was so much he still wanted to do; he wanted to see Rivain. Was his dance school still there? Would anyone there remember him? Maybe he did actually have parents, or siblings. As a slave these were dangerous things to wonder as they led only to despair. But now he was free, relatively speaking. Maybe once all this was over Dorian would come with him. It would be easier to face a past that had sold him into slavery with Dorian by his side.   
  
The object of his thoughts bent and caught his attention, snapping him back to the present. "You disappeared on us, _Amatus_ ," Dorian's smile was teasing, his grey eyes reflecting the torchlight, setting them ablaze with glimmering orange.   
  
"Sorry, what were we talking about?" Kaim glanced from face to face, realizing only then how tired he felt. Using the mark so strenuously must have taken more out of him than he'd thought.  
  
Dorian's eyes crinkled in an affectionate smile. "I think the Herald needs a small reprieve before he's thrust to the mercy of his adoring followers." He smoothly intercepted objections with a dramatic wave of his...it was then Kaim finally noticed a distinct lack of rings on his fingers. A frown creased Kaim's face, Dorian wasn't wearing ANY jewelry, no necklaces, no rings, no earrings. That was a departure from the normal. Kaim remembered Dorian possessing a jewelry box that rivaled that of his mother. Just one more change they needed to discuss. So much was different and it was overwhelming, daunting; weariness enveloped Kaim and he found himself grateful Dorian was making excuses for him.  
  
"Now to simply brave the raucous masses to your humble abode," Dorian grinned down at him.   
  
Kaim shook his head. "You go ahead, I can get there unseen on my own."   
  
Dorian raised a brow at him. "As you wish." With that Kaim strode to the windows overlooking the Chantry gardens and slipped out silently, slinking through an opening that was too small for most men.  
  
"Ah, that's how he does it. I swear the kid is missing bones in his body," Varric chuckled as he turned to leave the Chantry, Dorian by his side.  
  
“You should see him dance, I swear most of his joints are capable of flexing farther than any living being should boast,” Dorian murmured almost to himself, thoughts giddily resting on a pair of gyrating hips.  
  
“That’s it, I’ve finally found my nickname for him. I’ll call him Bendy.” Varric seemed entirely too pleased with himself.  
  
“What?” Dorian raised a questioning brow.  
  
“I give nicknames to everyone. It’s kind of my thing. Kaim is so reserved that thus far I hadn’t been able to pinpoint one for him that wasn’t insulting. I didn’t want to choose anything to do with his...er...past. But this works perfectly! Thanks!” Varric slapped him on the back so hard he almost staggered forward.   
  
“You are welcome...I think.” Dorian watched the dwarf wander off to his own fire and tent with an amused shake of his head before turning and heading to the ramshackle building Kaim called home.  
  
Upon closing the door behind him he found the domicile still empty, Kaim must not have made it there successfully yet. As Dorian was stripping away his outer trappings the window abruptly slid open. A pair of tan hands gripped the top window pane and Kaim easily hoisted himself up and through the window feet first, dropping into the room silently. Dorian glanced between Kaim and the window. It was over his own head, how in the abyss did the short elf reach that? Kaim seemed to read his expression and chuckled.   
  
“I can jump very high.” He demonstrated by leaping up nimbly and shutting the window behind him.  
  
“Maker preserve, Kaim. Seeing you in action these past few days has made me wish I had been a little more Tevinter and utilized your other talents. I could have gotten rid of some very annoying people that way.” Dorian’s expression elicited snickers from Kaim.  
  
“And I would have doubted your sanity, as such a thing would not have been like you,” Kaim smoothly replied as he removed his leathers and boots, leaving on his cotton shirt, trousers, and, Dorian noted oddly, his fingerless leather gauntlets.  
  
“ _Amatus_ , really?” Dorian looked between Kaim’s hands and his face as the elf collapsed back on his bed with a tired sigh.   
  
“My wrists have been suffering under the additional abuse,” Kaim lied, covering his eyes with one wrist and laying back. “We’ve been fighting almost non-stop since I ‘ _joined_ ’,” he emphasized the word with a roll of his eyes, “the Inquisition and I leave them on for support.”  
  
Dorian noted a distinct lack of eye contact and remembered that Kaim hadn’t done that the first few nights they spent together, but he supposed that could be easily explained by his wrists bothering him more today than those other days. Perhaps. Although, upon further consideration, he knew Kaim didn’t enjoy being the Herald and the leather effectively covered the green light; perhaps that was the actual reason and he simply did not wish to start another argument. Either way, despite their dirty presence in the bed, he was willing to let it drop.  
  
“So,” Kaim crawled backward on the bed and settled against the pillows, gesturing for Dorian to join him, to which he eagerly complied. “Halward. Tell me what happened.” Kaim curled against him like a cat once Dorian was settled and the Tevinter chuckled, winding his arm around his clinging elf. It took time, but Dorian told him the entire sordid tale from the day Kaim was exiled up until the day of his father’s attack, as well as the night he left Tevinter.  
  
"I noticed a distinct lack of jewelry," Kaim commented, tracing shapes in Dorian's shirt with a finger.   
  
"I left it all behind in Minrathous, except for what I was wearing, of course. That I sold quickly along the road. All that gold made me a target, and I needed the coin. Even being frugal I still ran out of funds before I reached Redlciffe." Dorian omitted having sold his Pavus birthright.  
  
By this time the sounds of revelry outside were becoming distractingly loud. "I suppose I cannot keep you ensconced in here much longer, lest they come searching for you. Appearances must be made." Dorian rolled his eyes and gently extracted himself from Kaim's warm embrace.   
  
"I don't want to." Kaim's tone was petulant and Dorian laughed.   
  
"Not to worry, _Amatus_. I'll remain by your side the entire time. No one will bother you for long with the evil magister hanging about."   
  
\---  
  
Kaim stared in awestruck horror at the advancing army of red lyrium infused templars. This Elder One was taking his theft of the mages rather personally. Cullen had been right, they should have been more on their guard.  
  
Now wasn't the time though; there was an entire village to protect. Immediately his mind inventoried their defensive capabilities. They had trebuchets and they had walls...and no place to retreat to. The walls wouldn't hold a siege; they either destroyed the enemy or everyone in Haven died. There were two points they needed to hit and cause landslides in order to force a bottleneck. Kaim's lips thinned in determination.  
  
“Protect the trebuchets! Cullen, get everyone else in the gate! I want all non-combatants in the chantry! Shore up the barricades! Get those trebuchets working!” His command presence was undeniable and it was a side that entirely surprised Dorian. Every soul leapt to his bidding unquestioningly. Of course it helped that Kaim threw himself into the fore ahead of everyone else, leaving his team to scramble behind him.  
  
Twin daggers glinted wickedly in the twilight as he met the first templar's shield and quite literally ran up it, vaulting over his head. His surprise was cut short on the edge of a blade sunk deep into the soft tissue of his neck, right in the vulnerable gap in his armor. Kaim landed and rolled, dancing smoothly to his feet between archers, daggers flipping through his fingers, leaving them both eviscerated, screaming in agony as they collapsed.   
  
His long ebony ponytail swished with his movements, angular elven features set in a determined mask of concentration as he fought his way through the throngs of enemies toward the trebuchet. Iron Bull cut an arcing swath of death through plate, leather, and cloth alike while Cassandra fell into a defensive stance near Dorian, determined to keep the templars at bay so he could continue to use his spells.   
  
Cassandra had long ago given up trying to defend Kaim during battle, he was everywhere, often dancing behind enemy lines where she couldn't reach. It was best to leave him be because he would unfailingly appear where and when he was needed most before darting away again.  
  
The plight of a nearby Inquisition agent caught Kaim’s attention and he sprinted toward the combatants, dropping to the ground in a slide at the last moment, skidding right under the templar’s shield and between his legs. The screaming man nearly fell on top of Kaim, but he rolled nimbly away as the soldier collapsed with both hamstrings cut. A dagger in his throat ended his cries with a sickening gurgle. Kaim snatched the stymied woman’s hand and dragged her to the trebuchet.   
  
“Turn this thing around and aim it right between those embankments!” he commanded tersely, seizing both her shoulders and turning her in the intended direction, pointing over her shoulder at the shadowy mountains above them. “When the trebuchet is ready do not hesitate! We will defend this position until you can fire!” With that he was gone, whirling away to cut down more advancing soldiers.   
  
Snatching a vial from his belt Kaim tossed it in the air, kicking it with a spin, the vial soaring unerringly straight at an oncoming templar. The shield he raised only succeeded in shattering the vial and splattering the corrosive fluid everywhere. He and his two compatriots collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony as the acid horrifically burned their faces.  
  
“Bull! Up!” Kaim shouted as he proceeded to sprint straight at the qunari. Iron Bull cleaved his opponent practically in two before turning as Kaim arrived, extending his hands as Kaim leapt, catching his feet and propelling Kaim high into the air with his powerful arms, the elf twisting in a backflip before landing atop a towering pile of lumber. Crouching low to make himself a smaller target, Kaim ran across the length of the pile, sailing over the edge with a leap, dropping into the center of a cluster of templars. Dorian almost chuckled at the chaos and panic that ensued. Kaim’s primary defense was that he was so small. Add a crouching stance and it made large, plate wearing templars wielding shields seem like clumsy oafs. He dodged between them, as easy to pin down as water, daggers biting and slashing, digging deep into openings in their armor before whirling away. Some templars even hit one another in their wild attempts to swing at him.  
  
The sound of the trebuchet firing gave him hope and his head snapped up, pleased when a portion of the mountain slid down over the oncoming forces, torchlight winking out across the sloping landscape. One down, one to go.   
  
“Herald! The other trebuchet isn’t firing!” the agent he’d rescued yelled over the din of battle. “We’ve got enough reinforcements to hold this position, go get ‘em, your worship!” Only the hope lilting every word kept him from snapping at her for her choice of terminology toward him.  
  
Dagger blades tucked against his forearms as he nodded to her then broke away, calling to Dorian, Bull, and Cassandra to follow him to the other trebuchet. If all went well, this would make the battle much easier. Their forces would be greatly culled by the landslide and the rest would be forced to attack through a small bottleneck, making their numbers ineffective. They could win this yet.   
  
\---  
  
Nope.   
  
No.  
  
That was a dragon.  
  
All Kaim’s hopes and careful battle plans were dashed. How was he supposed to fight a dragon with daggers? The damn thing wouldn’t even land. Not to mention Cullen was calling it an archdemon? An old god? It couldn't be; this wasn't a blight?   
  
Now they were all hiding in the Chantry. Kaim had saved everyone he could find on his way there, and they all huddled in the stone structure, listening in horror as the flying lizard shrieked and slammed into the building. The discussion grew heated about their options and Cullen voiced a fatalistic view of a last stand. Dorian was about to argue that he hadn’t come all this way to die in a last stand when Kaim solved the problem for him.  
  
“Unacceptable!” Kaim snapped. “We are getting these people out of here, now find me a plan!” His brow curved low over his eyes, giving him a wolfish appearance and his words were practically snarls. Though small in stature, Dorian couldn’t help noticing a new intensity about him. His nose was wrinkled with the force of his glower, his lip curled, exposing white, almost pointed canines. The thought ran unbidden through Dorian’s head that he was a little wolf. He almost laughed before collecting himself.  
  
“If only the trebuchets were still an option,” Dorian bemoaned.  
  
“Perhaps they are,” Cullen said slowly, outlining a plan that seemed as desperate as their current situation. Cole and Roderick interjected and they finally had a usable idea.   
  
“I’ll get the trebuchet aimed, and once you give the signal I’ll bring the mountain down on this mess and end it.” The note of finality in Kaim’s voice brought Dorian’s head snapping up.   
  
“You’ve got to be joking-” Dorian insisted.  
  
“We’re going to need a distraction to keep that dragon off the civilians while we get them to safety. You’ll need to make some noise. I’ll have a scout signal once we’re clear,” Cullen said, his brows knit, knowing he was likely sending the Herald to die.  
  
Kaim acknowledged Cullen with a feral grin. “Loud? I can do loud.”  
  
“But when you activate the trebuchet the whole mountain will come down on Haven…” Cullen said pointedly.  
  
“Kaim, this is suicide!” Dorian insisted.  
  
“Not if I can help it. I don’t plan on dying today.” He gave Dorian a sidelong glance before turning to his gathered followers.   
  
“Herald, your life is worth far more than-”  
  
“Don’t even say it, Solas,” Kaim growled.  
  
“Kaim, be reasonable! If you die, there will be no way to seal the rifts, or possibly even stop this Elder One,” Solas argued, urgently trying to guide him off the path of suicide.   
  
“Like I said, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.” Kaim turned his burning, blue green gaze on the elf and Solas fell silent. “That having been said, I’m also not dragging you all to what could possibly be your deaths-”  
  
“If you dare finish that sentence, you stupid man, then I will beat you senseless.” Cassandra circled around the pillar where the rest of the Herald’s company waited.  
  
“Cassandra-” Kaim’s voice held warning.  
  
“You can’t really expect us to just sit back and watch you run headlong into the jaws of death without having your back. After all we’ve been through together? Tsk tsk,” Varric chided with a grin, readying Bianca. A murmur of agreement rippled through the others gathered and Kaim shook his head in exasperation.  
  
“You’re all idiots,” Kaim growled, but there was a hint of gratitude in his voice.  
  
“And we follow the biggest idiot of all.” Cassandra crossed her arms and raised an annoyed brow at him. “You should know by now there is no getting rid of me.”  
  
“She ain’t kidding. I’ve tried,” Varric mumbled loudly.  
  
A loud sigh escaped Kaim. “Cassandra, The Iron Bull, and Dorian with me. The rest of you make sure the survivors make it out of Haven, especially the advisors. I’m counting on you to keep these people safe!” There was no brooking argument with his tone of voice and they leapt to his bidding.  
  
“Let’s dance, assholes!” Kaim shouted as he kicked open the door and strode out, followed closely by Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Dorian. If they hadn’t been in such a dire circumstance Dorian might have actually laughed. There was nothing like forced leadership and hopeless combat to bring out the sardonic side of his lover.  
  
\---  
  
Their desperation was a palpable thing. The waves of enemies, despite their earlier efforts, seemed unending. With Haven abandoned there was no one to slow their arrival and they fought with everything they had to get to the trebuchet, and once there, to protect it. Kaim relied on his team to cover him while he aimed the massive weapon, but they were often quickly overrun and he had to abandon his task to help cull their enemies.  
  
Finally the weapon was readied and Kaim began to arm it, yanking on the crank for all he was worth to get it loaded and into position. He’d barely gotten it locked into place when a keening screech overhead came as their only warning.   
  
Kaim shoved Dorian. “GO! RUN!” he screamed, breaking into a sprint himself, practically herding the mage along, desperate to gain some distance from the trebuchet. If it was bathed in dragon fire then all was lost.  
  
Dorian picked up Kaim’s breakneck pace and sprinted, faster possibly than he ever had his entire life, following closely on Cassandra and Bull’s heels. Why wasn’t Kaim beside him? There was no way he was faster than Kaim. Roiling dragon fire seared behind them as they tumbled down the path a safe distance, bumped and bruised, but still moving, lungs burning.   
  
Dorian turned, looking for Kaim. He had been right behind him only a moment ago. But when he'd glanced back again he was no longer there.  
  
"Kaim?" Dorian yelled, fear suddenly gripping his throat and chest, drawing the attention of Bull and Cassandra who both turned as well. "KAIM!!!" His eyes fell on the figure of his elf, almost completely back the way they'd come, picking himself up off the ground. A massive wall of fire stood between them and Kaim, and their eyes grew wide when a towering, lanky monster approached Kaim through the flames.  
  
"KAIM!!!" Bull grabbed hold of Dorian's arm before the mage could bolt back down the path.  
  
"Dorian! There's nothing we can do for him now! That's dragon fire! There's no getting through that and you know it!" Bull told the struggling Tevinter firmly. To make matters worse, the dragon chose that moment to land behind Kaim, effectively boxing him in.  
  
"LET GO OF ME!!! I HAVE TO GET BACK TO KAIM!!!" Dorian screamed, yanking desperately on his arm, making Bull fear he'd dislocate it attempting to free himself.  
  
"Dorian! Bull is right! There is nothing we can do for him! It's all up to Kaim and the mark!" Cassandra yelled over Dorian's hysterics. "We have to get out of here! If Kaim brings down the mountain-"  
  
"THEN HE'LL DIE!!! I WON'T LEAVE HIM!!!"  
  
Bull bodily picked Dorian up and threw him over his shoulder, his axe and Dorian's staff in one palm, pinning the mage in place with the other. His struggles against the qunari were futile, but if either of them doubted his conviction toward Kaim before, they certainly didn't now, listening as Dorian's echoing shouts of rage morphed into desperate sobs.  
  
\---  
  
A commotion at the end of the caravan brought Cullen and Leliana sprinting to the back of the column of weary escapees.  
  
“-WE HAVE TO GO BACK!!!” Dorian practically screamed.  
  
“Lower your voice, Tevinter!” Cullen snapped when they reached the quarreling companions. Cassandra and Bull were literally dragging the fighting mage kicking and screaming through the wilderness after the fleeing army.  
  
“What happened?” Leliana demanded.  
  
“He stood! He stood alone against that… that THING!!” Dorian was almost in hysterics, an unusual and unsettling sight for all around.  
  
“What thing?!” Cullen was growing impatient.  
  
“The Elder One. It called itself Corypheus,” Cassandra smoothly explained, almost falling on her face when Dorian yanked his arm out of her grasp roughly.  
  
“And if you had done as I asked we’d be there with him! And he might still be alive!!” Dorian snapped, tears still leaving bitter tracks down his dark skinned cheeks.  
  
“We do not know that he is dead!” Cassandra bit back. “And what were you going to do against dragon fire!? Blow it out?!”  
  
“I’m a mage! I could have-”  
  
“Done what? Thrown some ice at it? Dragon fire is no easy thing to combat. Kaim brought the mountain down. There is still a chance he made it out,” Cassandra’s voice begged for calm but the mage yanked his arm from Bull and stomped to the side, fuming.  
  
“When the trebuchet was ready, an attack from the dragon bathed the area of combat with fire,” Cassandra explained, turning to address those who had not been there. “Kaim hurried us along, but in doing so fell behind and was separated from us by the dragon's fire. There was no way around it and no way through it. We stayed only long enough to hear the Elder One announce his name and his intent to remove what he called ‘the anchor’ from Kaim’s hand. When that failed we retreated, knowing if Kaim managed to bring the mountain down we would need to get clear. Dorian vehemently disagreed however.”  
  
“How could we just leave him?!” he shouted. “I swore to him I-...” The words stuck in his throat and he hung his head.  
  
“Maker help us all,” Cullen muttered darkly. “Our priority is getting these people to safety though,” he announced firmly. “Once that is complete we can send scouts back to Haven to assess the damage and search for the Herald-”  
  
“Kaim.” Dorian snarled. “His _name_ is Kaim.” He turned his shoulder to them coldly, gazing back at the now buried village in the distance.  
  
The former templar’s shoulders slumped and he gazed helplessly over the mage’s shoulder at the orange glow of lingering fires. “Maker, bring him back to us. Bring Kaim back.” With that he turned and followed the Seeker.  
  
“They don’t know.” A voice next to Dorian said, startling him. His head whipped to the side to find Cole near his shoulder, as they were the only two left standing in the snow, watching the army trudge through the mountains.  
  
“Know what?” Dorian asked curiously, wiping his nose and eyes, a slight hiccup to his voice.  
  
“How strong he is.” The young boy gazed after them, his eyes slightly glazed. “They follow him, and some of them aren’t even sure why. Faith, following, fleeing, fleeting...he carries them all. Even in reluctance, he stands between them. He's always between them. The barrier between safety and death. They don't, can't, won't ever understand how it consumes him, coils inside, claims.”  
  
"Consumes him?"  
  
"It’s...difficult. He’s too bright to look at. Like watching birds flying across the sun. Always alone, even amongst friends, fighting screens the screaming inside. The hunter, haunted, harried, how long can he carry the deaths? His hurts are too deep, I can’t help them, his hurts help. The pain awakens him, protect others from the pain. Protecting fills the emptiness. With the Inquisition he's alone...and he's not. But you," Cole glanced at him with glittering eyes, “you make it better.”  
  
"You're...not human, are you?" Dorian asked curiously. "But not a demon either."  
  
"I'm not either," Cole stated. "He will need medical attention when arrives." The boy started forward.  
  
“You speak as though you know he’s alive?” Dorian’s eyebrows raised, hope kindling in his chest.  
  
“He has survived too much. A mountain will not stop him.” With that Cole trudged after the army, leaving Dorian alone in the snow with his thoughts.  
  
\---  
  
What hellish nightmare had he awoken to? First the caves with lurking demons, now this. Kaim stared into the swirling white despondently. Tevinter never really got any snow, the climate was too warm, so this was an entirely new experience for him. Though it had snowed a few times in Haven in the past weeks it had been nothing more than a light dusting, and Kaim had exited the cave to come face to face with a raging snowstorm. He hadn’t thought it possible to be this cold.  
  
His injuries definitely did not aid him in any manner either. He was sure several ribs on his left side were broken, maybe even his clavicle on that side as well, not to mention the dislocated shoulder he’d had to set himself. His neck felt swollen and bruised beyond compare, and his hip was tender, quite possibly fractured, and his knee was three times its normal size. He’d had to fold down his leather boot to prevent the circulation from cutting off. The thin cloth under his leathers did little to protect him from the howling winds so he wound what little extra fabric there was around his exposed neck and anchored his left arm to his side.  
  
With the storm and the condition of the evacuees from Haven, Kaim wasn’t sure anyone would be out to find him anytime soon. If they even believed he was alive. Honestly, _he_ couldn’t believe he was alive. It was a stroke of luck that the mines didn’t collapse on him, let alone that there was an opening for him to throw himself into before the avalanche destroyed the entire area.  
  
Beneath his glove the mark snapped and flared, causing him to curl protectively around it. Kaim had no idea what that Corypheus creature did to it, but it felt different now, more open. It felt as if he was able to pull from the Fade more easily, not just manipulate the parts that seeped through. This moment was not the time to examine the damage though, nor how far it had possibly spread from that thing’s manhandling. Right now, if he planned on surviving, he needed to try to catch up to the Inquisition, if they even made it. For all he knew the dragon had found them after and they were all dead.   
  
But those thoughts were not productive. It was time to see if any of the skills he’d learned with the Dalish would prove useful. Long moments dragged by, the wind biting him and proving more of a distraction than he’d ever thought possible. He eventually settled on what he believed was the correct direction and set out.   
  
It turned out walking through the snow would have been difficult enough normally. With significant injuries, including a knee he could barely bend? Almost impossible. The white drifts rose above his knees and he found himself dragging more than he was walking. It was far denser than he’d been anticipating. It looked so light and fluffy when it was falling, but once on the ground it compacted, became firmer, and he hated it. Pain jolted through him with each fumbling step, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his senses, black hemming his vision, and he could feel his movements slowing as sensation was slowly leached from his body by the biting cold.  
  
How in the thrice cursed void was anything possibly this cold? And these people _preferred_ to live here? Absolutely mad. All of them.  
  
Agonizingly slowly Kaim clawed his way through the rising drifts, the fingers of his right hand purpled and bloodied from the cruel, and deceptively jagged ice, the swirling white making it difficult to remain on course, and it took all his concentration. Should something decide he looked tasty and attack him he was positive he would not survive. As though on cue wolves howled in the distance. Great. His blood was sure to act as a beacon and lead them straight to him. There was nothing for it but to either curl up in the snow and give up or soldier on.   
  
Kaim had no idea how long he’d been crawling, half dragging his left leg, or even if he was going the right way, but every time the wolves howled he’d change direction slightly, seeking to avoid them. Honestly, it surprised him they hadn’t found and torn him to pieces yet, as they seemed to be all around him. Almost as if they were herding him, but that was impossible, right? He must be losing his mind; the cold was getting to him. At least the snow had let up though, now falling in light, fluffy flakes instead of the driving, stinging storm from before.  
  
His limbs felt like lead, the effort of continuing to move forward taking almost more than he had to give, and only one thought kept him moving forward: Dorian, the hope that somewhere ahead Dorian waited for him, safe and warm.   
  
Only a single course was open to him, a winding canyon through a severe rock face and he dragged himself along it, not knowing how long he could keep this up. Just when he thought he had nothing left to give, all hope draining away, something caught his eye, a glint of light off the rocks ahead, and not an ambient gleam from the surrounding environment, the orange flicker of a fire. Hope surged once again in his chest and he clutched to the sheer rock, dragging himself to his feet. Nearly his entire left leg from the hip down was useless except to balance with, his left arm curled close to his abdomen, almost frozen in place at this point. His body heat had melted the snow against his skin and soaked his clothing, the water freezing the limb to his body. He wasn’t sure he could separate them even if he wanted to. Using the rocks as support he hobbled on, the cold air burning his already pained lungs, unable to feel the cracks in his lips anymore. He would die happily as long as he died warm. At this point that was his only wish.  
  
A call rang out and he sank unsteadily to his knees in the snow, relieved almost to the point of tears. He couldn’t see it, but the orange glow in the valley below told him there was a camp ahead, and he’d been spotted by a scout. Dalish? Inquisition? Someone hostile? It didn’t matter, as long as it was finally over.  
  
\---  
  
No one could have stopped him even if they wanted to. Dorian practically flew over the snow and collapsed to his knees by Kaim’s side. Tenderly, so as not to aggravate any injuries Dorian wrapped Kaim in his arms and hugged him against his chest, sobbing quietly. The sight would haunt him all his life. Kaim’s face was almost unrecognizable as it was coated in so much blood that very little skin showed through, and what did was bruised and traumatized. His ponytail was barely there, sagging low on the back of his head, the hair matted with dried and frozen blood, and the tail knotted and filled with debris. But Kaim was alive. He was alive and back in his arms once more.  
  
“I thought I’d lost you.” He couldn’t stop kissing Kaim’s hair and forehead, heedless of the dried blood and dirt. “I’d just barely gotten you back and I thought I’d lost you again.”  
  
“Have I told you yet how much I hate snow?” Kaim muttered against his silk shoulder, ignoring the pain in his bruised face following the action, his eyes sliding closed as he allowed himself to become lost in Dorian’s achingly familiar scent.  
  
“I am in complete agreement with you,” Dorian chuckled through his tears.  
  
“We need to get him to the healer,” Cassandra said quietly from beside them. Dorian nodded and very gently scooped up the smaller body, holding Kaim’s less brutalized right side against his chest, guilt stabbing through him at the pained expression that shot across Kaim’s face.   
  
“It’s over,” Dorian promised him. “We’ll get you warm; you’ll feel better momentarily, and I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” A ragged chuckle escaped Kaim, despite the pain, and he curled further into Dorian’s chest, burying his face in the silk.  
  
“I have absolutely no objections to this plan,” Kaim muttered as Dorian carried him down the slope, following carefully after Cassandra, laying kiss after kiss along Kaim’s forehead.  
  
It was a long, slow healing process as Kaim had sustained significant injuries. From his description of the fall they determined he likely fell directly on his left side, resulting in near catastrophic injury. Three ribs on his left side were broken, one having punctured a lung, and though his shoulder had been reset after dislocation it had still caused significant muscle damage. His clavicle on that side was fractured in two places, and his spine had deep bone bruising as did his scapula, and the healer was unable to tell for certain, but she was fairly sure his hip had been fractured as well, not to mention the damage to every tendon in his kneecap.   
  
Dorian’s entire supply of lyrium later Kaim was sleeping peacefully, both he and the healer nearly collapsed from exhaustion. All of the breaks were healed and the cuts closed, but they simply didn’t have the energy for the myriad of bruising that coated his entire body; that would have to wait until later. Dorian barely made it to the adjacent cot before he too was sound asleep.  
  
It felt like entirely too short a time later that singing rudely pulled him from his slumber and Dorian glanced around blearily, trying to regain his bearings. The cot beside him was empty. Kaim was no longer there and he cast about, desperation unnecessarily gripping him. Kaim was undoubtedly safe in camp, but that didn’t stop his worrying. It was twice now he’d lost him and he’d be damned if it happened again.   
  
Fortunately Kaim wasn’t far, standing outside the tent as throngs of his followers knelt before him, the chorus of singing all for him aparently. Dorian almost laughed aloud at the decidedly uncomfortable expression on his face. Oh, his poor, revered Herald. He was sure to catch an earful from Kaim about this later.   
  
Before he had the chance to join him that hobo elf, Solas approached him instead and the two meandered off. Dorian frowned and rose to his feet, snatching up his staff. He didn’t wish to eavesdrop, but his desire to keep Kaim in sight was strong, so he followed at a discreet distance, stopping at the edge of camp while the two stood by a nearby torch and spoke. This satisfied him. He was unable to hear, but he could see Kaim at least.  
  
\---  
  
Kaim was entirely shocked to learn the orb was elvhen. Solas quickly laid out the situation for him, telling him of Skyhold and how it would benefit the Inquisition. Kaim found himself in agreement with Solas on everything.  
  
“I must say, you still are quite a sight,” Solas commented off the subject, glancing at him sidelong in the light of his magical torchlight.  
  
“It looks worse than it is at this point. They did a fantastic job healing me. It feels like most of the breaks are gone. It’s just the bruising remaining.” Kaim rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he pressed too hard on his bruised spine.  
  
“Indeed. I would call it luck to have survived so dire a situation, though others would argue divine providence. Who am I to challenge faith?” Kaim could almost hear the tiny bit of sarcasm hidden in his voice, as though some part of that statement somehow amused him.  
  
“I’m not one to believe in such things.” Kaim didn’t look at him, staring instead out into the thrice cursed cold darkness.   
  
“So I have heard, you truly are Tevinter then?”  
  
“Only Tevinter raised. I was born in Rivain and lived there until I was around ten years old. I have...vague memories, but they feel unfocused, unclear.” He finally turned and glanced at the other elf, somehow feeling Solas wouldn’t judge him for his past.  
  
“Ah, slaves. If only we truly realized how enslaved we all are, despite our supposed freedoms. You yourself are a perfect example of such. You escaped Tevinter slavery only to become mired in foolish Dalish traditions that they truly know nothing about, and then the Conclave, and the mark burned into your palm. Are we ever truly free?” Solas cocked his head to the side to look at Kaim.  
  
“I’d like to believe I still have some say in the direction this Inquisition moves, that I’m not entirely trapped. But who am I to know? As you said, do we even truly know what freedom is?” Kaim paused. “And what do you mean by foolish Dalish traditions?”  
  
“Oh, your people would not think so. As I said, I have been attacked on more than one occasion for simply deigning to share my knowledge. Perhaps now is not such a time to start conflict.” Solas seemed content to let the subject drop.  
  
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a typical Dalish,” Kaim chuckled. “I could hardly tell you one tradition from the other. I am sorry, Solas. I need to stop by and speak with you more often. I am woefully ignorant of the ways of elves and Dalish. I was only with my clan for four years.”  
  
“And they accepted you easily?” He seemed genuinely interested, curious, as though this surprised him.  
  
“N-” Kaim paused, “not at first. They feared reprisal from my Tevinter masters.”  
  
“Do not bemoan your lack of knowledge. AsTevinter raised you likely have more accurate knowledge than the Dalish themselves do, seeing as Tevinter absorbed most things elvhen.” Solas turned forward to stare into the darkness once more and Kaim got the distinct impression there was much more to Solas than the tramp apostate he first appeared to be.  
  
“Is there something in Tevinter that would help with discovering anything about this orb, since it is elvhen as you said? If Tevinter took lost elvhen knowledge-” Kaim wracked his brain for any possible books from the Pavus library that might be able to help them. Now that he thought about it, they were woefully lacking in the ‘elf’ department.  
  
“It is not so simple. They destroyed much of what they took and perverted the rest. Anything to be found would likely be inaccurate.” Solas tilted his head at him. “You are extremely well educated for a former slave.”  
  
“That’s why Dorian and I get along so well now that I’m free. He never treated me like a slave. I was his friend, confidante, study partner. Yes, I had to act like his slave, but when we were alone in his room, it was entirely different. He taught me to read, to write, I learned math, science, magic theory, history.”  
  
“Not to be rude, but what was your function before you came to Dorian’s household? I assume you were not always with him?” His eyes pointedly fell to Kaim’s neck and he correctly assumed the marks did not come from Dorian’s home.  
  
“I-...mostly I was a dancer,” Kaim confessed uneasily, unwilling to divulge the other aspects of his duties.  
  
“Ah, that explains it. You move much like a Rivaini dancer.” Solas smiled at him. It seemed a rare thing, so Kaim smiled back.  
  
\---  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaim has survived Haven, as well as some of the pitfalls in their relationship. But the new Inquisitor title is looming over him, and his lie of omission about the mark as weight on his shoulders, how will Dorian react when he finds out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for my tardiness, my lovelies. I had issues with my son the past few days and it delayed things. Thank you again to the AMAZING [Valka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Valka/pseuds/Valka) for her beta of my horrendous grammar!

Skyhold was dilapidated, but it was still incredible. It needed significant work and repair. The roof was collapsed in several places, the courtyard was completely overgrown, there weren't even doors in most of the entrances, the wood having rotted away long ago. Despite the damage the architecture was incredible. The stone work still appeared sturdy, and no one could deny the view.

" _Amatus_." Dorian joined him standing in the main gate, gazing at the tangled mess in the courtyard. "You have your own castle now." The smirk in his voice was audible and Kaim snickered.

"It's not mine." He tilted his head back and to the side to glance up at Dorian. "It's the inquisition's."

"Like I said." Dorian gave him a sly look and Kaim rolled his eyes with a smile before turning his attention back to the crumbling structure, his eyes trailing the soaring towers, studying the imposing keep. Dorian studied him a moment. "Your thoughts, _Amatus_?"

"I really want to climb that." He pointed out one particularly tall watch tower with an impish grin.

"Speaking of, what’s with this new fascination of yours?" Dorian crossed his arms over his silk clad chest. The din of his followers approaching up the causeway prompted Kaim to glance over his shoulder then lead Dorian into the courtyard to maintain their private conversation. Kaim pulled a dagger and began cutting his way through the undergrowth, Dorian in tow.

"What fascination?"

"With climbing very high things and jumping off them. You climbed up onto the ledges of the Chantry several times while we were in Haven," he pointed out.

"I...ah...I hadn't thought you'd noticed." Kaim cleared his throat. "It's a...it was a training thing at the school in Rivain. Assassins have to be able to scale the impassable sometimes. It's easier to assassinate someone if they believe they're safe in a place they're normally unable to be reached. I simply...rediscovered how fun it is." Kaim shrugged. "It's physically and mentally challenging."

"Mentally challenging?" Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed. It's a puzzle. Or a maze, depending on the structure."

"A puzzle that could cost your life with one slip of the hand," Dorian muttered.

"And that's what makes it exciting." Kaim winked at him over his shoulder.

"Oh yes, let me just add vaulting off insanely high structures to my repertoire of entertainment." Kaim could practically hear the eyeroll in Dorian's voice and he laughed.

“It is fortunate then that I do not request the pleasure of your company while partaking of this distasteful activity,” Kaim smirked, hacking away at a particularly stubborn gnarl of thorns.

“It’s not distasteful, Kaim,” Dorian sighed. “If anything were to happen to you-” Kaim interrupted his words by slipping close, rising onto his toes, one hand grazing along his cheek to pull him down into a soft kiss.

“I am always careful, _Vhenan_.” A soft smile spread with Dorian’s brightening expression on hearing the elvish. He knew Dorian loved that. Kaim’s thoughts flickered unbidden to his mark. It might be kinder in the long run if he did die to a fall, rather than Dorian watching him waste away or possibly be consumed from the inside out by this mark. He felt it, like the sands of a timer, slowly slipping away, ticking the seconds off under his skin.

He shoved the thoughts aside vehemently. This was neither the time nor the place.

The commotion of the rest of the inquisition arriving behind them interrupted further discourse and Kaim smiled brightly, albeit forcibly at his approaching advisors.

“It is a magnificent keep, but we have quite a bit of work ahead of us before it can be proclaimed safe and presentable,” Cullen was saying as they wandered within earshot, each of them glancing all about.

“Indeed, just clearing the courtyard to set up tents before sundown is going to be a challenge,” Cassandra muttered, stepping forward to replace Kaim, sword in hand, chopping at the undergrowth with her usual vigor. Cullen immediately leapt into command mode, calling for soldiers to begin clearing the foliage and assigning work crews to clear away the cut vegetation, separating what could be burned and what was simple refuse.

Clearing the courtyard of overgrowth, wildlife, and repairing the entrances to the various buildings took several days, though they thankfully had no shortage of burn material. It was dreadfully cold as the winter season had just begun in Ferelden, the wind whipping through the crags and divots in the keep with a howling ferocity that made Dorian curse the country at least thrice over every single night. Not that Kaim disagreed, far from it. Honestly, at the moment he’d give anything for a sweltering Tevinter night over this numbness that refused to leave his fingertips. Cullen promised once they fixed the gaps and roofs that the situation would become much more tolerable, but Kaim had his doubts.

It was a frustrating first few days in the keep for everyone involved. The repairs appeared never ending with the cold biting into everyone’s nerves, and Kaim was generally petulant and irritated. Therefore the events that followed entirely shocked him.

“You want me to what?” The incredulous expression that danced across his face could almost be called comical if the situation were any less serious.

“You have been our leader all along,” Cassandra assured him. Her tone bespoke sincerity and he stared at her aghast, glancing at the sword as though it might bite him.

“ _Anyone_ would be a better choice!” Kaim insisted in a hiss, desperate for the gathering crowd to be left in blissful ignorance. “Have you even thought this through? I am an elf, I am from Tevinter, I was a slave, I am an assassin, I am basically from a Dalish clan as well, do you really need more reasons for how bad an idea this is?” It took all his self-discipline to maintain a low tone of voice. “Just because I have this thrice cursed mark does not mean I make a good leader-”

“I disagree,” Cassandra smoothly interrupted. “Your actions at Haven speak volumes of your leadership capabilities. You stepped up to the role with a grace and a tactical knowledge that was inspiring. Even Cullen was impressed.” Cassandra smiled at him kindly and he blinked several times.

“We are all in full agreement,” Leliana said in support, stepping forward and gesturing to the ornamented sword Cassandra still held out to him. “You _saved_ more lives than were lost at Haven and the people look up to you in hope. It does not matter if you do not agree with their assessment. They saw you fall and return to them. In their view you are like Andraste, and nothing now will change that. They witnessed it with their own eyes,” she told him seriously, the gravity in her voice sending him reeling. This wasn’t happening. It felt like he was drowning.

Inquisitor.

_Inquisitor_.

A small, quiet part of his mind took that moment to make itself known. Oh, how the magisters back in Tevinter would froth and writhe! A slave, one of their own--and and an elf no less--made into the equivalent of Andraste? The prophetess they rejected? Imagine Halward’s face. The idea sent thrills through him. But this was no reason to accept the weight of such an obligation, he had to do this for the right reasons. His eyes rested on the glittering blade for a moment, the hush of the crowd below heavy on his shoulders. He had promised to fight for the inquisition for Dorian, for a Tevinter that could actually be saved. What better way to pave the way than as leader of the very organization the Venatori struggled against? This Elder One would swallow the world if he could. Now that he’d seen the face of his enemy he couldn’t back down. Not until he’d sunk his daggers deep into his flesh and sent him back to the Fade where he belonged. Yes, it was personal now. But hadn’t it always been?

Strength crystallized behind his eyes and on a whim he slowly removed part of his leather gloves, revealing only the portion of the mark covering his palm.

“I won’t do it for this,” he gestured at his hand, speaking loudly enough to be heard below. Slowly he reached forward with his right hand and closed it around the grip. “I do this for a Ferelden worth saving. I do this for an Orlais worth saving. I do this for Tevinter, for Rivain, for Par Vollen, for Orzammar. I do this for every soldier, for every templar, for every mage. For every peasant, for every slave. I do this for those that can fight, and for those that can’t fight for themselves.” He looked pointedly out at the crowd below him. The mark reacted to his emotional state, sparking and hissing, glowing brighter.

“I do this because Corypheus needs to be defeated. I do this because ALL of Thedas is worth saving.” He swung the sword wide, easily hefting the heavy weapon that was almost as tall as he was, suddenly very glad he was as strong as he was. Cassandra and Cullen rallied the crowd, their cheers and shouts of confirmation bolstering his resolve, and when the announced him as the Inquisitor he thrust the sword high, the mark flaring and snapping. The flames engulfed his hand and he resisted cringing at the pain that shot up his arm, instead smiling confidently down at his _followers_. It was official; the gravity descended on his mind. They were now _his_ followers.

Desperately his eyes searched the crowd until he found familiar grey, his smile growing steady once more as he lost himself in their strength and admiration. With Dorian at his side he could do this. Only four years out of slavery, barely a person again, and now leading what could become one of the most influential organizations in all Thedas? He couldn’t deny he was overwhelmed, suffocating already under the responsibility and the weight of obligation. But Dorian had taught him to be alive again. If anyone could help him through this, it was Dorian.

The smile bestowed on him by the very man in question sent him to even greater heights. It was full of confidence, pride, and no small amount of love, filling Kaim’s chest with indescribable warmth and a sense of belonging he’d never felt before. It was a moment for only the two of them, a brief fraction in time where the clamour and crowds faded away, and for those suspended seconds it was only the two of them, only Kaim and Dorian. Kaim silently pledged his strength and courage to Dorian, vowing without words to support and champion his efforts in Tevinter.

It was a moment in time, an eternity and simultaneously only a breath, then the crowd’s cheer was deafening and it was lost, Kaim feeling overwhelmed once more at the sheer power of their devotion. One deep breath, and an exhale. He could do this.

As an assassin the sword was useless to him, so he handed it back to Cassandra who had plans for it to be mounted in the hall with a plaque made for it. All details Kaim could care less about. In time he was sure statues would be erected for him, as much as such an idea pained him, and one he knew he would strive against for as long as possible. The thought of him becoming an icon such as Andraste felt absurd and ridiculous to him.

Once free of his burden he descended quickly, eager to relinquish his position of superiority, and find the arms of his love. Fortunately they sought him out too and Dorian folded him in a warm embrace only moments after quitting the stone stairs down from the keep.

"Remember that bit I said about you running the inquisition? I should go into fortune telling." Dorian’s expression was unacceptably smug.

“I believe you implied it; you never actually said it. Something regarding Skyhold belonging to the inquisition and therefore to me,” Kaim countered with an impish grin, allowing Dorian to wrap his shoulders with one arm and lead him back up the stairs toward the dilapidated keep.

“Semantics.”

\---

"-But, Inquisitor, this is what's accepted, and with nobles of all backgrounds coming to Skyhold-"

"This is not up for debate, Josephine," Kaim said firmly to the ambassador trailing behind him as he strode gracefully through the debris that scattered the floor of the great hall.

"Problem?" Cassandra asked, entering through the broken doors of the arched entrance.

Josephine sighed. "He refuses to wear the outfit I chose for him. He will be seen by everyone during his stays in the keep and appearances-"

Cassandra eyed Kaim's appearance critically. The elf wore a rather baggy cotton shirt that laced up the front, which was at the moment partially unlaced giving him a roguish appearance. This was accompanied by plain brown breeches, his fingerless gloves, and black, soft knee-high leather boots.

"I see no problem with his appearance." Cassandra shrugged, then eyed the skin tight buckled pajamas Josephine was holding with distaste.

"I am in full agreement with Cassandra," Dorian said haughtily as he passed by.

"As am I," Solas chimed in from the circular room he'd all but claimed.

" _You_ have fashion advice?" Dorian asked glibly as he passed through on his way to the stairs. "I hardly notice you're there sometimes. You’re so... nondescript."

"Can you speak up? I cannot hear you over your outfit," Solas shot back.

"Or maybe you're just so old that your hearing is going!"

"Better than being young and ignorant."

"I'll show you ignorant!" A book went flying from the balcony above aimed at Solas who dodged it smoothly.

"That _is_ rather ignorant," Solas yelled back as the door finally creaked shut on the three standing in the hall watching with varied expressions.

"So nice they're getting along so well!" Kaim blurted out with a huge, fake smile and both Cassandra and Josephine gave him a deadpan stare. The expression dissolved into a look of resigned annoyance. “I’ll make sure they don’t burn down the library we’re painstakingly refurbishing,” he promised, heading for the circular.

Cassandra and Josephine watched him go, both with consternated expressions. Leliana approached the ambassador and draped an arm across her shoulders, giving her a triumphant smile. Josephine rolled her eyes with a wrinkled nose and held up a sovereign between two fingers.

Leliana snatched it up with a victorious grin. “I _told_ you he’d reject those ridiculous pajamas,” she cooed.

“They are NOT pajamas!” Josephine shot back as she gracefully excused herself to her office.

Kaim entered the circular to find Solas standing at a table in the center, filtering through piles of ancient looking documents, the surface covered in arcane artifacts and magical relics.

“Will Dorian’s presence in the Inquisition cause you distress?” Kaim asked with a small smile, his hands clasped behind his back, circling the table, his eyes scanning the its surface in interest.

“Not at all, Inquisitor,” Solas emphasized his title with a soft smile. “The diatribe between us is an exercise in verbal sparring of an amicable nature, nothing more. Contrary to outward appearances, I believe both of us rather enjoy the repartee; it is not often one encounters another of sufficient intellectual standing,” he paused with a small chuckle. “Though you will never hear me tell _him_ so.”

Kaim grinned. “Understood.”

“Indeed, I believe you will likely hear similar encounters between myself, Dorian, and Vivienne, in any particular pairing, order, or perhaps all three at once. The difference in rearing and background the likely culprit.” He smiled in a secretive manner and Kaim immediately found himself enjoying conversing with the apostate, despite his superiority complex and obvious withholding of his past. Of anyone in the Inquisition, Kaim was best suited to recognizing the key signature of a man desperately trying to amend his past mistakes, and erase the impact of a life he’d rather forget. However, it wasn’t his place to pry. Every man was allowed his secrets, except Kaim it seemed.

“Solas,” Kaim began distractedly, picking up a spare quill and completing a runic equation on one of his documents without really even thinking about it, then setting the paper and pen to the side, completely missing Solas’ expression of intrigued incredulity. Solas had no idea he was so knowledgeable of things complex and arcane. “I am woefully ignorant of all things elvish, and there will be no returning to my clan any time soon. Would you be willing to teach me?” He finally looked up and met the apostate’s inquisitive eyes.

“I am afraid when it comes to the Dalish, they do not overly appreciate my views,” Solas objected slowly.

Kaim shook his head. “Not what I meant. I mean I would like to learn about _elves_ ,” he emphasized. “All elves, Dalish, Arlathanian, ancient, modern, nomadic, fade memories, histories, documented, vocal.” Solas was entirely taken aback by the request.

“I am but a humble scholar, but I will do as you wish,” Solas insisted emphatically. It was rare to meet one so eager for knowledge with an unbiased viewpoint. “Please be aware, not all will be as elegant or noble as the tales would have one think. Some truths may hurt.” He eyed Kaim seriously.

Kaim nodded. “I understand.”

“I will teach you what I can then, _lethallin_.”

\---

A commotion on the stairs to the library brought Dorian to his feet in curiosity, shocked to see Kaim sprinting up them at breakneck speeds, Sera’s hand gripped tightly in one hand, dragging the poor thing so that Dorian feared for her arm socket.

“Hide!” Kaim hissed, shoving Sera into Dorian’s alcove and pushing her head down behind a stack of books, nudging her smartly when she giggled, before he ducked behind Dorian’s bulk just as Cassandra came stomping up the stairs.

“Where are they?” she snarled, glaring around the library with eyes betraying her true feelings of amusement. Dorian could feel Kaim pressed to his back, each foot behind his own in a mimic of Dorian’s relaxed stance so he was entirely hidden behind the mage. Really it was quite impressive and Dorian couldn’t help smirking, that was until he realized the reason for Cassandra’s rage.

The seeker’s braid that usually circumvented her head and tucked in at the base of her skull was loose in two pieces and hung down to her shoulders, the ends liberally painted pink. A guffaw escaped him unbidden until her gaze snapped to his face in annoyed consternation and he swallowed his amusement as best he could, unable to fully suppress his smile.

“Why, dear Seeker, whatever is the matter?” His voice sang of a noble’s practiced and perfected civility, relinquishing none of the repressed laughter that bubbled in his chest, threatening to overcome him. Pink really was a good color on her.

“Have you seen Kaim or that pointy eared scamp that likely encouraged this untoward behavior?” Her snarl was softened by her own insurmountable amusement and Dorian smiled winningly back at her.

“I am afraid Kaim and I were not scheduled to see one another until later in the day. Should I see him, do you desire I instruct him to seek you out?” The words were exquisitely chosen and she shook her head, rubbing her sword hand through the ruined braids.

“As if it mattered,” she sighed, finally relinquishing a smile. “Instead, let him know I will not be unprepared next time.” The look she leveled Dorian with was almost frightening before she turned and stomped her way back down the stairs, headed for the courtyard.

Once she was gone he glanced over his shoulder. “The Seeker would like to inform you that she will not be unprepared next time,” Dorian related glibly, an enchanted grin on his face as Kaim peeled himself away from Dorian’s body, peeking around him cautiously.

“Oh, indeed? We shall see about that,” Kaim turned as Sera extracted herself from behind Dorian’s stacks, knocking half of them over in the process and earning a mournful groan from the mage.

“Yeh said it, muffins,” she replied, slapping Kaim’s outstretched palm with her own, a grin lighting her face as they gripped wrists.

“Muffins?” Dorian arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Muffins’re small and awesome. Kaim is small and awesome. What more d’ya need?” The blonde elf shrugged with a toothy grin. Logic Dorian could hardly argue with so he shrugged in return with a small smile.

“I see Sera is already proving a winning influence on your behavior, Kaim,” Dorian chuckled.

“Who knew pranking would be such fun?” Kaim returned with a grin. “It’s something I never even considered before. And endeavoring not to be caught is almost as good as training.”

“We’ll make a Red Jenny out of you yet.” Sera slung her arm across Kaim’s shoulders and steered the shorter elf toward the battlements, already whispering new ideas in his ear.

Dorian just laughed as he watched them go, pleased Kaim was indulging himself in pleasurable activities outside of his own influence, even if they meant pranking other members of the Inquisition. An irritated huff blew out of him on turning to survey the damage Sera’s flailing had caused his neatly piled bookstacks. Time to alphabetize them again.

\---

“You know, I thought I’d seen enough of this place,” Kaim complained as they headed back toward Skyhold. “But no…we keep ending up back here...somehow.”

“You and I both,” Cassandra snorted. “It felt like we’d never move on, that the Inquisition would live and die in these blasted woods.”

“You like the bears,” Kaim teased.

“You HAD to bring up the damn bears, didn’t you?” Her snarl was fierce and Kaim burst out laughing.

“Did I miss something?” Dorian asked lightly with a chuckle.

“At a certain point in our travels near the south western part of the Hinterlands there was a time when it seemed we could hardly take more than a few steps outside of camp without a bear appearing from nothing and attacking us,” Solas explained.

“There was one time we actually had to turn around almost immediately because we’d already run through our supply of potions,” Kaim laughed. “We were attacked by, what…? Three or four bears right in a row?”

“Two at one time, even,” Solas chuckled.

“I’d think you’d be friends with bears, Solas, what with your wild upbringing,” Dorian chirped.

“I did live in a village, thank you,” Solas grumbled.

“Let me get this straight. You’re an apostate, neither dalish nor city elf, who lived alone in the woods studying spirits,” Dorian asked him grandly.

“Again, not quite alone. Is that a problem for you?”

“No, no, you’re a special and unique snowflake. Live the dream.”

Kaim snorted.

“Says the Tevinter who abhors blood magic, frees his own slaves, and wanders the countryside with a heretic, killing his own countrymen.” Solas’ snapped words were softened by an underlying tone of respect.

“What can I say? I enjoy striving against the grain.” The grin was obvious in Dorian’s voice. “One day I will be revered as a trendsetter, not reviled as a pariah!” he said grandly, pleased when Kaim laughed.

“I can’t wait to see you turn all of Tevinter on its head.” Kaim’s smile was so bright that Dorian had trouble focusing on his words for a moment. “What will be first? Reformation of the Chantry? The release of all slaves? Banning that horrific fashion trend of wearing birds in ladies hair?”

Dorian threw his head back in a full bodied laugh. “That really was an atrocious year, was it not? I was relieved when it faded away. Alas, I think the first thing to be done is appoint a new _archon_.” Dorian tapped his lips with one tapered finger. “What say you to being the first elven _archon_?”

Kaim’s head snapped around so fast that he actually lost his footing and slipped, tumbling down the small slope they were descending. When the dust settled Kaim sat at the bottom, legs splayed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand sheepishly while the entire company laughed.

“Obviously you’re joking with me,” Kaim called back hesitantly, though the look on Dorian’s face told him otherwise.

“I think you’d look positively stunning in black and gold,” Dorian called back, his arms crossed over his silk clad chest.

“You’re forgetting one important fact,” Kaim shot quickly. “I’m no mage!”

“The mark on your hand indicates otherwise. You have power over magic that no other mage can boast.” Dorian fully enjoyed the sour expression Kaim leveled him with as he descended the slope at a much more sedate pace than the elf.

“An elven _archon_ , an intriguing thought,” Solas commented, following Dorian down the slope, considering Kaim as he did so. “Kaim would certainly make a pleasing choice for such a role.” His staff rested comfortably against the hollow of his shoulder, both hands folded over it, giving him almost a grandfatherly appearance despite his youthful face.

“He’s certainly sneaky enough to warrant the position.” Cassandra’s smile was predatory and Kaim raised a teasing eyebrow. Poor Cassandra had been the subject of a few pranks lately. All of which she’d endured with relative grace and minimal cursing and yelling.

“The _archon_ doesn’t have to be sneaky,” Dorian retorted haughtily. “He just has to be clever enough to prevent upstarts from overthrowing him. Something Kaim is more than capable of.”

“Enough _archon_ talk!” Kaim insisted, dragging himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his leathers. “It’s moot until we defeat Corypheus anyway.” There was a pregnant pause. “Although the sheer amount of silk I’d be drowning in might make it worth it.” Dorian made a pleased grin at Kaim’s beaming face.

“A pleasant thought, yes?” His arm wound around Kaim’s shoulders and they continued on.

Until a bear attacked them.

“DAMNIT!!!” Cassandra yelled.

\---

The group stared up the sheer cliff wall.

“I hate this place,” Dorian grumbled. Forgotten Oasis indeed. He’d had yet to spy any water at all. “Remind me again why we had to leave Skyhold again so quickly just to spend an unholy amount of time in this desolate, dry hellhole?” He was startled when a pack was shoved in his face.

“Hold this,” Kaim commanded.

“Andraste’s tits! What are you keeping in here? Bricks?” Dorian pulled at the strap, peeking inside.

Kaim gave him a cocky smile then brushed his ponytail over his shoulder and backed away a good distance. “Ok, Bull… horns up.” Bull grinned.

“Oh dear Maker, it’s a sheer cliff? How in-” Kaim sprinted by him, silencing Dorian, leaping high to land on Bull’s hands, who threw him straight up as hard as he could. Kaim shot upward, kicking off the wall once, rebounding off the opposite cliff wall, then stretching for all he was worth. His hand caught the intended ledge far above his companions and for a moment he grinned to himself triumphantly.

Then the rock crumbled away.

“ _Kaffas_ -!” Kaim scrambled for purchase, the stone giving way around him and Dorian’s gut clenched. He was a long way up at this point. Nimble fingers finally found purchase and he hung there by his left hand, head swiveling to and fro, trying to determine his next move.

“If you fall I will not weep for you, you stupid, risk taking elf,” Dorian grumbled loudly.

“I know it will take longer, but perhaps he is correct. Finding an alternate route may be preferable,” Solas agreed slowly.

Kaim ignored them, shifting his fingers to make room for his right hand, gripping the ledge with both hands and slowly pulling himself up, wary of how thin the ledge was and knowing that his weight could easily dislodge him. Chin now even with his fingers he counted his breaths then shot his right hand up, catching the next niche and stabilizing himself.

Achingly slowly, hand over hand, he scaled the wall, sweat pouring down his back and his breath coming in pants, but he would not falter. A cry escaped him when his shaking fingers slipped and he slid a short distance downward, rubble raining from his slide before he found a secure handhold.

“Maker… I can’t watch this.” Dorian’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but his eyes remained glued to the figure far above them.

After a long, agonizing ascent Kaim finally reached his destination and heaved himself up, collapsing onto his back, breathing hard, dirt caking his sweat coated face and neck.

“ _Festis bei umo canavarum!_ I’m not speaking to you the rest of this trip,” Dorian called up angrily and Kaim waved a hand over the edge dismissively, smiling softly while staring up at the sky. He loved irking the Tevinter into open declarations of affection. Okay so that was less affection and more irritation at his lack of care for his well-being, but same thing.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed provoking Dorian, per se, it was simply difficult to fear for his own well being when he died a little more with each use of the mark. Climbing, jumping off heights, fighting, making love, anything that gave him a rush, made him feel more alive, and he clung to all of these desperately. In his determination to feel more alive he knew he was being unfair to Dorian, but he couldn’t help it. Perhaps if Dorian knew…

No. He would find out in time. Kaim couldn’t hide it much longer.

Once he’d caught his breath he unrolled the rope ladder that had been left behind from the miners and one by one the group joined him. The moment Dorian reached the ledge he seized Kaim by the shoulders roughly, frowning even more at Kaim’s goofy smile. “What would I do if you fell, you dim-wit?” It was hard to remain upset at the elf when he gave him such an expression of placid disconcern, yet that was precisely why a new ball of dread began to build in Dorian’s gut. Did Kaim really have so little care for his own life?

“I am fine, _Vhenan_ ,” Kaim leaned in close and kissed the underside of Dorian’s chin. Dorian made a soft sound of displeasure. Kaim knew using elvish against him was unfair. “And if I fell I knew you would catch me.” He giggled at Dorian’s sour expression.

“One of these days we are both going to eat your words, _Amatus_.” Dorian gently cupped both sides of Kaim’s face and kissed him with a softness that almost ached. “Please, Kaim. Don’t you understand what losing you would...would do to me?” His voice choked just enough to make Kaim feel overwhelmingly guilty and he gave Dorian a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wanted me to be my own person,” Kaim turned it around on him unfairly, but his expression softened at the hint of despair he caught in Dorian’s grey eyes. “But I will be very careful. You will not lose me to a fall, that I promise. This is just who I am.” The sound of Solas and Bull conversing nearby drew his attention and he pulled back, straightening.

“Now, you hate this place as much as I do. Let us keep moving and establish a forward camp and then leave this awful locale with all due haste, yes?” Kaim cocked his head with a smile and Dorian couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes with a soft smile.

“You owe me a long, relaxing, hot bath once we get home. It may be hot here, but it will be bone chillingly freezing when we get back.” He smiled when Kaim lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles with a grin.

“Deal.”

\---

It was a sore and weary group that finally tromped back into Skyhold. During the entire trip back even Solas had noted Kaim’s reserved attitude. When questioned he simply replied he was tired, nothing more. But Dorian caught the subtle flexing of his left hand, how Kaim would grip it with his right when he thought no one was looking, pressing his thumb into the hollow of his palm, almost as if it ached.

Kaim collapsed on the bed, still in his pants, completely exhausted.

"Why do you insist on wearing these dirty things in bed?" Dorian tugged on the fold of cloth covering his right palm. "I understand when we're in the field, but home?"

Kaim shrugged and closed his eyes. "Too lazy to take them off."

"Then I will," Dorian pulled at the end of the wrap, beginning to unravel it before Kaim could stop him.

"Just leave them," Kaim tried to pull his arm away.

Dorian narrowed his eyes at Kaim. "I _knew_ it. You're hiding something. These haven't been off your hands in weeks...what are you hiding?" Damn Dorian and his intelligence.

Kaim sighed and gave in, allowing Dorian to remove them, which he now did with great trepidation. The right hand produced nothing out of the ordinary, which left...his anchor hand.

It was impossible to completely keep the tremble out of his hands as he took up Kaim’s left hand and unraveled the cloth that bound his palm and wrist. As the skin of his wrist became exposed he stopped abruptly and Kaim refused to look at him, staring off to the side instead.

Slowly Dorian continued to unwrap the unnaturally glowing appendage until the cloth finally fell away completely. Kaim’s palm appeared to have a large tear in it from which the glow erupted, the gash spanned from the crease of his palm by his thumb all the way to his pinky and was almost an inch wide. From there it spread outward like a poison, the veins themselves glowed, but the skin around was slightly darker. And it appeared it was continuing to spread as it now wound up his wrist.

In the Redcliffe chantry the glow had been confined to his palm.

“Kaim, why-?” Dorian’s voice hitched with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his words made Kaim wince.

“I didn’t want you worrying. There’s nothing that can be done-”

“You don’t know that! I could have been researching all this time! I will find something that will…” he trailed off, knowing even as he said the words that the chances were slim he’d find anything to help Kaim. They barely understood the mark as it was. “Does...does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

“When I use it.” Kaim finally looked up at Dorian from his position lying on the bed. “I...I don’t know what will happen when...when it reaches my heart. With each use I can feel it spread farther.”

Dorian’s eyes misted over. “ _Vishante kaffas_ , I wish you had told me anyway.” He stared at the spreading glow.

“Like I said-”

“I _want_ to worry about you!” Dorian snapped and Kaim’s mouth clicked shut. “Kaim, I-... if you’re on borrowed time then...I want to know about it...so we can make the most of it.” Kaim stopped his words by sitting up swiftly, cupping his face, and kissing him gently, feeling Dorian’s soft lips tremble beneath his own. “I already lost you once,” the mage said when they pulled back. “You were taken from me before I had a chance to...I want the opportunity to do what I want to do with you and say what I want to say before…” His breath hitched again and Kaim wrapped him close, letting Dorian bury his face in his neck and hair.

“Nothing is certain,” Kaim said quietly. “We don’t know that it...we don’t know what it will do. There’s still time.”

“Time you were going to take away from me!” Dorian sounded angry as he pulled back, his eyes wet with unshed tears, a distinctively angry expression on his face.

“I knew I couldn’t keep it hidden much longer,” Kaim said softly. “I just...didn’t want things to change yet. Admitting it’s happening feels like admitting I’m dead already.”

Dorian’s face softened. He could understand that.

“How fast does it seem to be spreading?” He gently held the magically infected hand, gazing down at the softly glowing veins.

“With each rift it moves a little bit higher. I will show you after the next one.”

“There are so many rifts out there,” Dorian’s voice hiccupped in the middle of the sentence and Kaim’s heart broke.

“Think of it like...magical theory class,” Kaim forced cheer into his voice. “It’s an unknown magical problem, a puzzle. Every puzzle has a solution. We just have to find it. And there’s a timer.” He leaned forward emphatically, infusing enthusiasm he didn’t feel into his tone and expression.

“You’re right.” Dorian’s face hardened into a mask of concentration and he punctuated the statement with a quick kiss to Kaim’s lips before shuffling off the bed.

“Dorian?” Kaim watched him in interest as he crossed to Kaim’s desk and plopped down in his chair.

“I’m going to send a message...several messages...to a few magisters who owe me favors. If there’s anything out there that will help us research it, then I am sure it can be found in a Tevinter library. I will have them send me whatever relevant material they can dig up.” With that he seized up a quill and began scribbling furiously at a blank piece of parchment.

Kaim couldn’t stop his loving smile as he slipped from the bed after Dorian.

“I thought,” he said slowly, crossing behind Dorian and wrapping his arms around the broad, dark shoulders, “that there was a warm, relaxing bath due us when we got home,” Kaim reminded him, kissing the back of his ear. The scratching of pen on paper paused and Kaim grinned as he could almost feel the wheels turning in Dorian’s head.

“Well...the letters will assuredly be penned in a more appropriate manner after a bath,” Dorian turned in his arms and smoothly stood, picking Kaim up as he went. Kaim giggled as his feet left the floor, wrapping his arms over Dorian’s shoulders and holding him close.

“Of course.”

\---

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: RAPE OF A MINOR IS HEAVILY DISCUSSED AND IMPLIED IN THIS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I know this seems to be becoming a trend, but I promise it's not purposeful. I've been struggling with writing lately, and I'm not entirely sure why. I am also considering a hiatus for this story until the developers finish all arcs for the Inquisition storyline because I've heard nasty rumors they'll be killing off the Inquisitor character. I'd like to see where the canon storyline takes the game before making my own personal alterations to the story. I appreciate all your amazing comments and how many of you have stuck with me for so long. I cherish each and every one of you. THANK YOU ALL! Especially you, Valka, my awesome beta! <3

"If Varric's _friend_ is who I think they are-" Cassandra let the threat hang incomplete as she stormed from the decrepit keep's main hall, Kaim and Dorian immediately behind.

"Who do you think it is?" Kaim asked, brushing wayward strands of hair behind his ear.

"It is...of no consequence right now. I will reserve my judgement," she turned on the steps to face him. "It is important, nonetheless, that you follow up on this lead. We must move quickly to take advantage of the enemy's belief you are dead."

Kaim nodded. "I will meet with them at once."

Cassandra nodded and left the two lovers, striding quickly across the newly cleared yard to oversee the erection of sparring yards.

"Shall I leave you to your inquisitorial duties, _Amatus_?" Dorian asked with a suave smile. Kaim had known him almost a decade and still couldn’t grasp how Dorian was capable of being so smooth.

"That is likely wise. Varric made it sound as though this...informant preferred to remain incognito as long as possible." Kaim gazed out across the courtyard of the keep. His keep. The thought sent tremors down his spine.

"I confess a need to organize a new delivery of books recently arrived in the library. Hopefully this bunch will prove more...illuminating than the last." His expression was poignant and Kaim knew precisely what manner of books they were and from whence they hailed. Dorian was nothing if not bull headedly stubborn when it came to the pursuit of research. These had to be books from Tevinter regarding the magic consuming his hand and arm.

"I will meet you for the evening meal." Kaim stood up on his toes, pulling Dorian down by his collar, and pressing a chaste kiss against his cool lips. Kaim made a mental note as he turned with a smile and descended the stairs; Dorian and he both would freeze in this colder climate. He would need to place an order for warmer leathers and robes.

The chill wind bit through his thin cloth shirt as he crossed the courtyard and ascended to the battlements, headed for the spot to meet Varric and his mysterious informant. Rounding the corner, Kaim immediately caught sight of Varric leaning against the wall overlooking the tavern, beside him standing a rather tall man, likely taller than Dorian by at least two inches. He knew instantly this must be Hawke.

He looked exactly as Varric's books had described, perhaps a little more worn, but just as statuesque. His shoulder length, dark brown hair was pulled back at the temples and secured behind his head with a leather cord. Piercing blue eyes regarded Varric fondly with soft laugh lines creasing the corners. A light, well trimmed beard covered his angular, dark tanned jaw, broken by the line of a deep scar that split his lips on his left side, skirting his chin, and following beneath his jaw. He was undeniably handsome and quick with a smile.

Varric glanced up as Kaim approached, his grin instantly widening. "Ah! Here he is! Inquisitor Lavellan, meet Reven Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."

The human turned with a smile, looking with confusion over Kaim's head, then down at Kaim. A teasing smile broke his lips and he immediately smacked Varric upside the head.

"You didn't tell me he was as short as Merrill!" A laugh bubbled out of him as Varric smacked him back.

"How polite of you, Hawke!" Varric chided with a grin. Kaim glanced from one to the other, caught between amusement and confusion.

"Apologies!" Hawke swept a dramatic bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Inquisitor!"

Not to be outdone Kaim returned with the fanciest Tevinter bow in his repertoire. "The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine, Champion of Kirkwall."

Hawke threw his head back in a laugh. "Absolutely brimming with surprises! It is fortunate I didn't bring Fenris along! I think we'd all like the Inquisitor's heart to remain in his chest for the time being." His grin was almost unsettling it was so friendly.

"Nah, Kaim's not Tevinter nobility. He's an escaped slave. I'm sure they'd have gotten along famously," Varric chuckled.

"Ah, what a story then! I look forward to reading how Varric blows it completely out of proportion like he did mine! Although, from the tales I've already heard, as well as the fact you are an escaped Tevinter slave with a vallaslin, I daresay you'll have your hands full topping reality. His lordship is quite accomplished!" Hawke grinned.

"Please, call me Kaim. All this...title and nobility business makes my skin itch." Kaim shoved his thumbs into his belt and shrugged, glancing off to the side.

Hawke nodded, his face growing serious. "Trust me, I understand completely. Farm boy from a tiny town called Lothering in Ferelden." Hawke jabbed a thumb into his own chest. "I blew up half Kirkwall and they still wanted me to be Viscount. Unbelievable." He shrugged. "And call me Reven." A grin split his features once more.

Kaim nodded. For quite some time they spoke on the topic of Corypheus and his ability to somehow survive dying, about the prison, his father's hand in the spell, and that Corypheus was _definitely_ supposed to be dead.

"And you were downplaying your own adventures." Kaim shook his head with a smile, leaning back against the stone wall, unable to quite suppress the shiver that ran through him. The sun was beginning to set and the air was turning much colder.

"Shall we adjourn indoors to continue this conversation?" Reven pushed away from the wall with a smooth smile. "Varric set me up with a nice room in the tavern." His smile turned a little more lurid and Kaim felt his cheeks heating.

"I wouldn't mind getting a drink in the tavern," he caveated with a small smile in return.

"Behave yourself, Hawke," Varric chuckled. "The Inquisitor is taken, and by someone much more stylish than you."

"How utterly disappointing," Hawke smiled, undeterred as he placed a hand between Kaim's shoulder blades and ushered him toward the stairs. "She must be a robust creature to keep up with you."

"He is, actually." Kaim smiled at Hawke's intrigued raised brow.

"Now that's a complicated story," Varric laughed, leading the way down the stairs to the golden light spilling from the open door of the tavern.

"Oh? Do tell." Hawke led them to the bar and ordered a round of drinks.

It was well past dark when Dorian wandered into the tavern in search of Kaim. "There you are, _Amatus_. You never showed for dinner." Dorian's keen grey eyes flicked between Kaim and his companion, soaking in Kaim's relaxed posture and flushed cheeks, his countenance darkening minutely.

"Dorian! I'm so sorry, I must have lost track of the time. Dorian Pavus, I'd like you to meet Reven Hawke the Champion of Kirkwall." Kaim made introductions, immediately reaching for Dorian's hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling him close, somewhat allaying Dorian's fears.

"Ah, so this is _the_ Dorian." Hawke eyed the Tevinter in a mixture of amusement and contemplation. Dorian got the distinct impression he was being sized up.

"No. _The_ applies only to The Iron Bull." Dorian couldn't help the slight snap to his voice.

"Varric was spot on about his style. No possibility of competing there." Hawke leaned on his knuckles and glanced down at Kaim, still sitting by his side.

"No possibility of competing at all, you'll find I am superior in every aspect." Dorian's other arm circled Kaim's shoulders, his fingers tangling in Kaim's long, ebony hair possessively. Something in his tone snapped Kaim out of the pleasant haze he'd been floating in and he flushed deeply.

"Indeed." Hawke's eyes trailed his entire figure once more before settling on Kaim.

"I'm so sorry, Dorian. I hadn't realized how late it had become. Thank you for the information, Reven. We’ll see if anything comes of it.” Kaim rose to his feet, fingers still laced with Dorian’s.

“What comes of it, indeed.” The smile he gave him was genuine but Dorian couldn’t help hearing the secondary meaning. “We shall see more of one another, Kaim. Have no fear.”

Kaim smiled at him lightly before turning to Dorian. “Shall we?" He gestured to the door. It was a moment before Dorian tore his eyes from Hawke and looked down at him, his gaze softening.

"Of course." He turned to Hawke. "A pleasure." He bowed in the same manner Kaim had used earlier and Hawke grinned, sweeping to his feet and bowing low.

"The pleasure was all mine." His grin turned predatory once Kaim's back turned and a slight frown pinched Dorian's face as he guided Kaim outside. The moment they were out of sight Varric punched Hawke hard on the shoulder.

  
“And your reason for wounding me?” Hawke whined, rubbing his shoulder as he sat once more.

“I told you he was taken.” Varric looked less than happy. “What about you and Rivaini?” He fiddled with his mug.

“You know what about me and the good Admiral.” Hawke’s whole countenance changed. “It’s hard enough for me to trust once. She’s lucky I gave her a second chance at friendship at all. With my heart? Never.”

Varric sighed. “Yeah, I get that. But you can’t just shove your way between other people because they pique your interest.” The dwarf jabbed one thick, stubby finger in his direction.

“But he’s…” Hawke glanced over his shoulder, his face entirely softening. “I’ve never met a more beautiful man...other than perhaps Fenris, but I think that ship’s sailed too.” Hawke sighed. “If only I’d done things differently.”

Varric gripped his shoulder firmly, a soft, sad smile on his face and Hawke returned it before taking a long pull of his drink.

Outside Dorian walked beside Kaim in silence until he noticed Kaim shivering in the chill wind. “We need thicker clothing for you, _Amatus_ ,” Dorian half chided, half chuckled, pulling Kaim into the warm circle of his arm, and tucking the draping sleeve of his robe around his shoulders. It wasn’t as though the material were very thick or warm, but it was better than before, and Dorian’s body heat helped.

“I’m already planning on placing an order for better clothing for both of us.” Kaim smiled, tucking his body close against Dorian’s, feeling secure beneath his arm, and wrapping his arm around his waist.

“I always knew you were brilliant.” Dorian kissed his forehead, pleased when Kaim giggled.

Kaim quickly sobered. “I’m sorry I missed our dinner, Dorian.” His voice was so serious that Dorian actually glanced down at him.

“Pay it no mind-”

“No. Don’t brush it off. I told you I’d be there.” Kaim hugged him closer and Dorian couldn’t stop his smile, already feeling better.

“Your meeting with Hawke was important, and you didn’t miss dinner. You still haven’t eaten yet, and I waited for you,” Dorian insisted.

“You didn’t have to wait for me!” Kaim exclaimed as Dorian pulled him in the doors of the keep, turning to him in the safety of the dark anteroom before the main hall.

“Why would I eat when I know you haven’t.” He pulled Kaim close, bending to catch his lips. “We will go eat together now. Problem solved.”

Kaim’s smile was brilliant and he allowed Dorian to lead him through the great hall, stepping carefully over the debris. “You seemed...bothered by him. He did flirt with me, but I wanted you to know I-”

“You don’t have to do this, _Amatus_.” Dorian smiled at him. “You have enough to worry about.”

“If you’re allowed to worry about me then I’m allowed to worry about you,” Kaim insisted as they ascended the stairs to his quarters. There was little up there other than a mat, a few blankets, and all Kaim and Dorian’s gear, consisting of two small bags of meager possessions. But it had a roaring fireplace and it was warm. Kaim led him across the debris scattered room to their mat and blankets. “And I love you,” he murmured with a soft smile. He adored the way Dorian’s eyes would light up at those words, shining back down at him with all the emotion he had so much trouble expressing himself. “You are the only one for me,” he said softly, helping strip away their clothing until they could crawl into the pile of bedding.

“ _Amatus_.”

So much for eating.

\---

“It is a...dance?” Cole asked, his eyes glittering from underneath his floppy, waterlogged hat.

“The movements are very similar,” Kaim replied with a smile, illustrating with a few daggerless, graceful arm movements as they walked, his limbs moving in what could honestly be dance moves or deadly strikes had he been holding weapons. “We were taught that dance would allow us to move in a manner that would make us difficult to pin down. You move with your opponent, anticipate their next attack by watching their body, the tilt of their hips, the set of their shoulders, which foot they shift their weight to. It is very difficult to mask a body’s intent as long as you know what you’re looking for.” Cole watched him with wide eyes like he was speaking another language.

Behind them Cassandra and Dorian trudged in equal and unique postures of misery. “This rain is an affront to everything I believe in,” Dorian complained, shoving his rain soaked hair out of his eyes for the hundredth time.

“At least you are not wearing plate,” Cassandra muttered, adjusting her chafing armor. “And what IS it you believe in?” She gave him a sidelong glance.

“That I am always beautiful.” He winked at Kaim when he glanced over his shoulder in amusement.

“So, you are admitting you are NOT beautiful right now?” Cassandra snorted.

“Absolutely not. It is merely presenting a challenge.” Dorian slicked his hair back from his eyes for the hundred and first time.

Cole glanced back, then stopped and stared in a most disconcerting manner. “It changes shape!” The entire party stopped and looked at Cole oddly, until Kaim realized he was talking about Dorian’s mustache, which was significantly less curly than it usually was.

Kaim began laughing so hard he almost fell, doubling over and holding his stomach with one hand, bracing himself on his knee with the other. Cassandra stared at him with one eyebrow raised in confusion before she actually looked at Dorian’s face. A loud snort escaped her, followed quickly by her own peals of laughter. After a moment of confused glancing between them, Dorian finally realized what was happening and his fingers patted his mustache, amused annoyance crossing his face at being laughed at.

“You are about to have a very petulant and usually perfectly quaffed mage dump mud on both your heads if you don’t stop that this instant.” The undertones of amusement were obvious despite his irritated words and they both began laughing harder, Dorian joining in despite himself. Cole swung his head back and forth, regarding each of them in turn, a small, pleased smile on his face. It was unintentional, but it helped nonetheless, and this made him happy.

“The Village of Crestwood shouldn’t be far,” Kaim finally managed between gulping breaths, finally straightening and calming his laughter. “We should keep moving. I’m sure someone will allow us to dry out a little bit in their home. Although it appears some of us need it more than others.” Kaim grinned at Dorian who returned with a mock scowl.

Small chuckles escaped him as he turned and continued down the mud soaked road, brushing wet, clinging tendrils off his forehead and cheek. His conversation with Cole sent his mind wandering down paths he hadn't found himself thinking of for a long time. So much had happened since he was a small boy at the school in Rivain-

“Cold blue eyes in a cruel face, clawing, choking, can’t breathe, sneers at weak struggles, pulling, the ropes are too tight. Fingers like ice touching everywhere. ‘Someone make him stop, please!’ But the more he cries the more the man makes it hurt, blood drawn on the inside of thighs, the ropes leave burn marks-”

Kaim’s world suddenly narrowed to a pinpoint and his entire chest seized up. He couldn’t breathe. It was as though a giant weight was crushing him into the ground. Darkness descended on his mind and the world dropped out from underneath him. He was back there, alone, terrified, tied down, and completely at that monster’s mercy.

The group stopped behind Kaim, puzzled by Cole’s words and Kaim’s sudden halt of their progression.

“Kaim?” Dorian stepped up next to the elf and bent forward, peering at his face from behind the curtain of ebony that hid it, as his face was tilted downward. What he saw threw him into a panic. Kaim appeared frozen in place, an expression of absolute horror etching his features, his pupils constricted to almost nonexistence; he’d turned ashen, the blood completely drained from his face.

“Kaim!” Earnestly, he reached forward and touched Kaim’s cheek, hoping to bring him back from whatever hell his mind had descended into. What he wasn’t expecting was the horrified scream that erupted from the elf, the sudden rush of air into his lungs and hyperventilation, the way he lurched backward, as though Dorian had punched him instead of touching his cheek gently. Almost uncontrollably Kaim continued to reel backward, his hands thrown behind him as if looking for support, or expecting a wall to be there. The group leapt out of his way, staring at him aghast.

“Kaim!” Dorian followed after him urgently, trying to bend so he was in Kaim’s field of vision. “Kaim, it’s Dorian! You’re alright!” Another agonized scream ripped itself from deep within him and he staggered backward faster, both hands flying forward to grip his sodden hair, his eyes squeezing shut, hyperventilated breaths quickly spiraling out of control.

“Kaim, look at me! You need to breathe, calm yourself and breathe! Remember your meditations?” It seemed though the closer Dorian came the more panicked Kaim became so he stopped moving forward.

Without warning Kaim’s eyes flew open and he bolted.

"Kaim!" Dorian hurried after him, but he had taken off at a full sprint. Smaller, lighter, more fleet of foot and agile, Kaim quickly left Dorian behind, disappearing into the sparse foliage. "Kaim! Kaim, please!" Dorian came to a stop, breathing heavily, a hand on each hip as his chest heaved. He was unaccustomed to running at such speeds for extended periods and Kaim was no where in sight.

Dejectedly he slogged his way back the way he'd come and returned to the group, finding himself face to face with the second most disturbing sight of the day; Cole was curled up on the ground with Cassandra next to him, rubbing his back as he cried.

“I hurt him!” he bawled. “I was trying to help but I made it worse! There’s so much pain!” He rocked back and forth, his head cradled between his hands, the floppy brim of his hat folded against the sides of his head, pressed in place by balled up fists. “So much pain!” He rocked. "Tangled, tormented, tearing, tortured. A child! The man had him there so long," he sobbed, his fingers fisted against the soaked leather.

A soft, sad sigh escaped Dorian and he sat down in front of Cole. All they could do was wait for Kaim to come back, and hopefully he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“Cole, I think I know what you stumbled on. And I wish I could have warned you. Kaim was a slave in both Rivain and Tevinter. Before I became his master there were others who were not gentle with him, and he has the scars to show for it,” Dorian told him gently.

“You don't know. You couldn't know. The master with the cold blue eyes, cruel face, and the scar on his nose. Tied him to the bed, the only distraction from the pain was counting the light that cycled through the window...sixteen lights...” Cole hiccupped with the last few words.

Dorian sat back, horrified. This...monster had a twelve year old boy tied to a bed and...for over two weeks? No wonder Kaim had scars and couldn't speak about it. Memories of Kaim emptying the contents of his stomach in the lavatory of his family home filtered through his mind as he closed his eyes briefly in anguish. He knew it had been traumatic, but hadn’t realized how bad it had been.

“That was just like the panic attack he had when he awoke shackled in the Chantry prison after the Conclave,” Cassandra murmured and Dorian's head snapped up.

“What? Panic attack?” Dorian was immediately incensed. “You’d had him shackled?” His voice rose a pitch in anger.

“We didn’t know any better at the time! He was unconscious,” she explained. “The moment he awoke and flew into a panic we undid the shackles and helped him calm. I knew from his scars that abuse in his past was likely, but I never asked about it.” Her voice was soft, indicating her level of affection for the short elf.

Dorian blew out his anger in a noisy sigh. _Kaim, please come back. Let me help you._

\---

Rain pattered softly on and around him. It wasn't a sound associated with the memories and was therefore soothing. Kaim sat alone, curled into the smallest form he could manage, pressed hard against the wall of a short drop off, his forehead buried in his knees, arms wrapped securely around his legs as he rocked gently.

Silent sobs shook his shoulders and one hand migrated slowly to his neck, tenderly stroking the white, slightly raised lines of scars. For a moment all the pain had come right back; he could feel the harsh grain of the ropes burning into his skin, the way they became sticky with his blood, how they dried and became crusty. Later, hot agony as the torture began again, the ropes shifting, tearing away the scabs, blood flowing anew to congeal once again and repeat the process. Mirrored scars adorned each wrist and ankle.

The numerous cuts, bruises, abrasions, and the physical trauma of the magister taking his pleasure from Kaim's unwilling body had all faded away completely, but not the rope burns. He learned later they were the magister's signature. They had been done purposefully, so anyone looking at Kaim would know what had happened to him and by whom.

Bile rose in his throat and he uncurled just in time to heave up his breakfast, his whole body quivering with the force of his expulsion. Even when nothing but acid came up he continued to heave until the muscles in his neck and tongue ached with the effort. Weakened substantially, his body finally gave in and the heaving halted. He crawled a short distance away to avoid the smell, curling up once more, hot tears mixing with the cool rain on his flushed cheeks.

He had no idea how long he sat there, but when the sky began to darken he took a few long, slow, steadying breaths. The first coherent thought he formed was brimming with rage and indignation. How dare Cole pull such a thing from him and spill it into the light of day! And in front of Cassandra and...oh gods. Dorian. Intense mortification filled him and he covered his face with his hands, sobbing once more. It was one thing to make a supposition as to what had happened to him. It was another thing entirely to have it revealed beyond a doubt.

How was he going to face him? Now that Dorian knew for certain Kaim had been used so thoroughly would he even want him anymore? Would he be disgusted? Cruel words from his masters echoed in his mind and he cried harder, _worthless, used, filthy, if you weren't so pretty..._

Dorian was so beautiful, so handsome and intelligent. Kaim wasn't worthy of a man like him. He deserved someone just as beautiful but untainted, someone who wasn't trash to be used and discarded, someone who could give him the love he deserved without the burden. Someone who wasn't dying.

The hiccuping sobs slowly subsided and he stared into the drizzling fog as the world around him continued to fade into the darkness of night. It wasn't Cole's fault, he decided. He knew what Cole was, and those impulses were what made Cole who he was. He supported it when Cole "helped" others. It would be hypocritical to then be upset when it turned on him, despite the nature of the memories. Cole was right though; this was a deep seeded pain. It was hardly surprising he would wish to fix it. Heart sinking, he realized it was likely something not even the spirit could fix.

Unless...

Could Cole make him forget? Would he even want that?

Kaim curled up on himself again and stared to one side, thinking. Would he want Cole to erase those memories? They were crippling, beyond awful, and he was sure he'd be better off without them...

But that wouldn't change what Dorian now knew. The damage was done, but maybe he could finally have some lasting peace.

Mind finally made up, Kaim staggered to his feet, legs barely cooperating from having been tucked so long in the chilling rain, mostly numbed through. Walking stiffly, he made his way back toward the road, only now realizing just how far he'd run in his panicked, headlong flight. Dorian must be so worried-

No. Kaim shook his head. He had to make Dorian see; there was someone out there who could love him better than Kaim ever could, someone who could treat Dorian the way he deserved to be treated, who could give Dorian what he needed without being so needy in return.

It was fully dark by the time he reached the road and the rain was once more falling in heavy sheets. None of his companions were in sight and he supposed they continued on to the village without him once he disappeared. There wasn't an item on Kaim's person that wasn't entirely soaked through and he suddenly had an intense desire for a warm fire and something equally warm to eat. Following the road, he made his way toward Crestwood.

\---

"This is what happens when you refuse to listen to me!" Dorian shouted over the din, gritting his teeth in irritation and exhaustion. "We end up battling endless hordes of demons with no relief in sight!" His statement was punctuated by a fierce twirl of his staff, beheading the nearest shade, sending it disintegrating back into the rift.

"And I suppose leaving these poor villagers to their fate was a preferable option?" Cassandra bit out with a growl, shoving at the terror demon with her shield, so exhausted she could barely hold it up anymore.

"No! Assisting me in finding Kaim would have been preferable! That way the rift could actually be closed!" he snapped back. Quite some time ago he'd exhausted his reserve of magical energy, as well as emptied the only lyrium potions he had. Now he was just beating them back as best he could with his considerable staff skills, even as tired as he was. It would take a long night of decent rest to replenish his magical energy.

A wraith loomed up before him and he struggled to bring his staff to bear. The creature jerked and dissipated, revealing a weary Cole behind it, daggers held in shaking hands after stabbing it in the back.

"Prepare for another wave!" Cassandra shouted and both men slumped. They weren't sure how much longer they could keep going.

A familiar hiss ripped through the night and a crackling beam of light speared the darkness from the road behind them, shooting straight into the rift. Dorian's head snapped around so fast he nearly injured himself.

There, shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the sickly green halo of light exuding from his palm, stood Kaim, looking much the worse for wear. His hair hung around his shoulders in a tangled mess, his face coated in a light film of mud with the exception of twin trails down each cheek, his eyes puffy and red.

With a resounding boom the rift finally closed, dropping the entire area into inky darkness. Dorian remained undeterred, however, using Kaim's reflective eyes as a guide he ignored his aches and pains, running the few steps it took to bring him to Kaim's side.

"Dorian-" Kaim made as if to back away, but Dorian was having none of that. A satisfied sigh of relief escaped the Tevinter as he pulled him hard against his chest, wrapping him in a crushing hug, ignoring Kaim's stiffening.

"Please," his voice trembled and Kaim's resolve crumbled a little, feeling the fingers of one of Dorian’s hands tangling in his hair. "I know it hurts, but please do not run off like that. Please, let me help you. _Please_ , at least let me keep you safe, _Amatus_." The waiver in his voice and the sheer amount of love he was projecting broke the fragile wall Kaim had erected and he buried his face in the filthy, soaked silk covering his shoulder, his arms winding around Dorian's waist, hands fisting in his robes and pulling him closer.

"I suggest we continue this reunion OUT of the rain," Cassandra muttered, though not unkindly. It had been an exhausting few hours for all involved. The party turned toward the gates of Crestwood to find a young man standing there, holding a lantern high, gazing at them in confused wonder.

"Inquisitor? Inquisitor Lavellan?" he asked timidly. As if anyone else in Thedas was able to close rifts.

"Yes," Kaim answered, stepping from the protective circle of Dorian's arms and into the light. "I am Kaim Lavellan." He chose not to use his title.

"The mayor has acquired accommodations for you for the evening. A house has been prepared for your sole use and he says he will meet with you come morning. If you will follow me? A meal has also been prepared for you."

"You have our gratitude." Kaim nodded his head and followed the young man who then turned and led them through the ramshackle gate. It was a small, meager village, but the house they provided was warm and comfortable. An older woman was just putting the finishing touches on a stew as they were ushered inside. She bobbed them a grateful courtesy and the two left them in peace.

In silence they stripped their gear and hung it by the fire before digging into the hot, filling meal.

Once his fill was eaten Kaim moved from the warm circle to stand by the window, staring out at the pouring rain, arms wrapped insecurely around his stomach. His ears twitched, hearing Dorian's soft tread approaching from behind him. On cue warm, strong arms encased him as Dorian bent over to accommodate his height, his achingly familiar scent enveloping him and unable to help himself he snuggled closer, basking in his warmth.

"Dorian, you deserve-"

"Shut up."

Kaim started.

A long sigh escaped Dorian. "I was afraid of this. I do not _deserve_ anything. You are not less because of what you endured. You were a victim, subjected to horrors no being should have to withstand, much less a _child_. It was not your fault. You are not worthless, or dirty, or any of the other horrible things that monster likely told you. You are a _victim_ , faultless." Dorian's fingers worked their way through Kaim's tangled hair as he spoke, freeing the knots in the ebony silk.

"I want _you_ , not this apparition you _think_ I deserve,” he continued in a soft, affectionate tone. “And I do not mind in the least reminding you of this every day, every hour if need be. Yes, you are beautiful, but you are also the strongest man I’ve ever met; you are grace personified, brilliant, funny, an absolute ass at times, and you drive me insane with your antics.” Kaim snorted and Dorian pressed his smile to Kaim’s jaw before he continued. “But there is no one I’d rather have by my side for the rest of my life.” Gently he turned Kaim to face him, cupping his face so the shorter man’s head tipped back to look up at him, lost in the pain filled blue green eyes.

“ _You_ are the one who actually deserves better,” Dorian informed him seriously, pressing his thumb to Kaim’s lips when he opened them to protest. “And if I do not make you happy then please tell me so I can let you go to find someone who does-”

“No!” Kaim surged into his arms, throwing his over Dorian’s shoulders, rising on his tip toes to pull him into a kiss that tasted of desperation and urgency. Dorian’s arms encased his ribs and pulled their bodies flush, Kaim’s feet leaving the floor but neither of them cared as they were completely swept away on the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm them both.

“Dorian,” Kaim breathed when they finally parted, “I-I...I want to...you...you won’t think less of me if I tell you…?” Kaim wouldn’t look up at him, his eyes hooded and hidden, but his cheeks were painfully flushed and his breathing had kicked up another notch.

“Kaim, you never have to tell me anything you don’t wish to, do you understand? If it is painful, or hurts you then it’s fine to leave it be.” Dorian studied him carefully.

“I know, but I...I want to...I think…” He took a deep, shuddering breath, still refusing to look anywhere but at Dorian’s cotton undershirt. “I just...it’s so overwhelming. Every time I think about…” His eyes closed, his eyebrows knitting together as he fought the urge to vomit again. Dorian’s warm, secure embrace circled him, his touch heavy and reassuring, his scent filling his nostrils and slowly the panic began to recede. It helped to ground him.

Tenderly Dorian led him to the cot they’d been given for the night. With one arm still around Kaim he rearranged the blankets and pillows comfortably then sat down, pulling Kaim into his lap. Before they settled in he snatched an item from his pack then turned Kaim so he sat with his temple pressed to Dorian’s chest, using the comb he retrieved to begin removing the tangles from his beautiful hair. The gestures and sensations were familiar, domestic, and soothing and Kaim immediately calmed, curling into Dorian’s chest, one arm sneaking behind him to wrap around his waist and hold him close, the other resting against his ribs.

“There’s a reason it took you so long to help me remember how to be a person. Like I told you years ago, slaves were sent to him to be broken.” Kaim’s words were so soft it was almost hard to hear him, but Dorian remained quiet, continuing to work his way from his scalp to the ends of his hair, expertly maneuvering the comb. “I knew better...I knew they didn’t like my attitude and my humor. I just didn’t understand the full implications of...the punishment.” Kaim took a few moments to steady his breathing again, turning his nose further into Dorian’s chest.

“The idea...was that I needed to remain silent and obedient. If he said I wasn’t to cry, then I couldn’t cry. I counted how many times the light came through the small window in the corner. I wasn’t removed from the bed the entire time. A healer was sent in every night to fix the worst of the...damage...but not my neck, wrists, and ankles. Those were...purposeful. Those were so everyone who saw me knew who it was that…” Kaim’s breathing suddenly quickened and he curled almost painfully hard against Dorian. “I’m sorry, I’m not saying it right. It’s all a mess-”

“Kaim,” Dorian paused in his ministrations and wrapped Kaim securely, kissing his forehead repeatedly. “You’re fine. You’re more than fine; you’re unbelievably brave.”

“No, I’m not making sense; it’s all disjointed-” His voice was panicked and Dorian guessed he was trying to shift the cause of his panic onto something less painful.

“It’s not. I understand you just fine, but there is no need to go further if it is bothering you this much,” Dorian reminded him gently, continuing to kiss his forehead.

“No.” Kaim calmed slightly. “I’m...I want to. Nothing else has helped, maybe...this will?” Dorian let him regain control of himself, to continue when he was ready, returning to his task of removing the tangles. “It was sixteen days total.” He swallowed hard, fighting the nausea. “It was at twelve days that I stopped being able to cry anymore. But that wasn’t good enough. He wanted total obedience, not just the inability to fight back. At that point I couldn’t feel my hands and feet anymore, and I didn’t think it could possibly get worse…”

Dorian’s stomach dropped in dread.

“But that was the day he told me to...to beg him for it…” Kaim suddenly sat up and his hand flew to his mouth. Dorian thought initially it was because of the words, but he realized quickly it was Kaim fighting to keep dinner down. Once more in control of himself he curled up, both hands buried in his hair. “I couldn’t do it…” he whispered harshly and Dorian leaned in, holding him securely but careful not to constrict his movement. Honestly, Dorian felt he might lose his own dinner any moment. It was a constant struggle to keep himself steady and free from shaking in rage.

“I couldn’t do it…” Kaim’s voice was so broken, the tears choking him. “Four days…he said the pain would stop...but I couldn’t do it...the healer...every night it took her longer to fix-” He choked again, sounding like he might lose the battle with his stomach at any moment. “But it was too much pain...four days...and I couldn’t...I couldn’t...I told him what he wanted to hear…” Kaim was all out sobbing at this point and Dorian gently removed the fingers threatening to pull his own hair out, instead threading their fingers together and allowing Kaim to grip his with white knuckles. “I told him...I told him…” the words dissolved into incoherent, agonized sounds and Dorian pulled his arms around his own waist before wrapping Kaim in his arms, his fingers gently moving along Kaim’s scalp, combing through his hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner, though his hands were shaking with barely suppressed fury.

“Kaim, you did nothing wrong. Words coerced out of you through that much pain are not honest ones. You said what you had to in order to survive. There is no shame in that. That it took so long to force them out of you is telling of your fortitude and strength. This, and he also did not fully break you. Ultimately he failed, for hiding inside, waiting for his moment to shine was the most incredible person I’ve ever met, a man I look up to and admire." Kaim looked up at him in shock, his red, puffy eyes wide.

"B-but I...I said-"

"As I told you, words uttered under such duress do not count. It is as if you never said them at all." Dorian tenderly wiped the moisture from his cheeks with both thumbs, careful to move his hands when Kaim threw himself at Dorian, his arms circling his neck and his face buried in the crook of his shoulder, weeping so hard that he quivered like a leaf tossed by the wind. In that moment Kaim felt so fragile, curled up in his lap, clinging to him as though his life depended on it. It wasn't the moment to bring this up, but Dorian silently promised Kaim he would return to Tevinter, if for no other reason than to find this man and kill him.

When the tears finally subsided and Kaim went limp with exhaustion, Dorian repositioned them on the bed, lying down, with Kaim protectively tucked against his side. Lazily his fingers trailed Kaim's head, sliding through the now shining and tangle free black locks before returning and repeating the process, the ends of Kaim's hair draping over the side of the small cot.

"Dorian?" His voice was timid.

"Yes, my _Amatus_?"

"Thank you."

" _Amatus_ , if you requested it, I would tear the stars from the sky to adorn you like jewelry, because only they could possibly do you justice," he murmured against Kaim's temple. "And I would make the moon your halo."

A tired giggle slipped from Kaim. "Would you then be the sun so we could chase one another across the sky?" He tilted his face up to meet Dorian's, finally bestowing a small smile on him that lifted his heart considerably.

"As romantic as that sounds, the sun and moon never catch one another. And I'd very much want to catch you and hold you in my arms as you slept. I shall have to resign myself to remaining a pitiful mortal, content to bask in your light." He finished his oration with a dramatic flip of his head.

Kaim laughed in delight before he leaned close, their lips moving against one another in a kiss more potent than words, their desire tempered by an understanding that ran deep within them both. It was chaste yet full to bursting with promises of eternal devotion and love of the purest kind. Dorian had never dared to hope that he could feel for another the way he did for Kaim. And now that he had him, there was nothing in Thedas, the Veil, or even the abyss that would tear them apart.

A soft, contented humming resonated through Kaim's chest and Dorian resisted the urge to make a purring joke when their lips parted, pleased instead to find Kaim's eyes were closed, his breathing smooth and even. For quite some time Dorian sat watching Kaim sleep, reverent fingers tracing over every feature in complete worship of him. The tips of his fingers followed each eyebrow, the straight angle of his nose, the intricate swath of the vallaslin that arched under each eye, the soft curve of his lips, each sweeping cheekbone, the hollow down to his jaw.

Once assured Kaim was sleeping peacefully Dorian finally allowed himself to drift off as well, content to hold his love in his arms.

\---

The next morning Kaim awoke feeling well rested, and more refreshed than he had in years. Perhaps sharing his burden was indeed exactly what he needed. As always his thoughts shied away from any memory regarding those terrible days, but it wasn’t quite so desperate or nauseating now. Dorian knew. He knew it all and he still loved him, still wanted him. Kaim felt immeasurable warmth bloom in his chest at that thought.

Cole approached him after breakfast while the company was strapping on their gear."Kaim, I'm...I'm sorry," he apologized feelingly, wringing his hands. "I did not mean to-"

"Cole, it's alright. You were only trying to help." Kaim placed a hand on each of his shoulders and looked up into his downturned face, easily gazing at him from under his hat as he was much shorter than Cole. "I understand that, and I'm not mad at you."

"And it did help...eventually. Dorian helped heal the hurt. It still hurts, and that won't go away...but it isn't so raw now." Cole met his eyes shyly and Kaim smiled sadly.

"Yes, Dorian helped. You both did. Thank you."

"You are welcome." Cole sounded so relieved that Kaim couldn't help smiling at him.

"I did have one question though..." Kaim said slowly. "The way you erase memories, how does it work?"

“It’s not...I mostly make them forget _me_ , not the memory itself. I ease the pain, make them see it a different way, and they forget me.” He cocked his head, studying Kaim. “I do not know that I could take away that much memory.”

At that moment Dorian caught wind of the conversation. “Kaim,” he said sternly.

“Thank you, Cole. I’ll talk to you about it later.” Kaim smiled at him before turning to Dorian.

“No, you won’t. Not soon at any rate.” Dorian frowned at him. “You cannot just erase memories you do not wish to have.” He bent slightly when Kaim refused to look up at him. “Kaim, our memories are what make us who we are. What if you had them erased and it changed you?”

“I hardly think forgetting those particular memories would change me negatively!” Kaim snapped, more irritated that the good mood of the day was slowly being ruined. “So you think cowering in the woods while my team battles unending waves of demons is a good thing? Had I been there none of that would have happened!”

“Kaim, I believe you are strong enough to work past this-”

“And what if I’m not? What if you’re wrong?” Kaim’s voice rose with each question as he yanked his shoulders from Dorian’s grip. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting all of this. I never seem to have a choice in the matter, ever! Maybe for once I want to be able to make a conscious choice. They’re MY memories! I should be allowed to decide if I want them gone!”

“All I’m asking is that you consider carefully before committing to having your _mind_ altered,” Dorian begged, echoes of his father’s voice in his memory. Maker, he understood. He had been there with Kaim through several of his nightmares and now he knew exactly what Kaim had endured. He was sure he would feel similar, but Kaim was too precious to risk having him changed simply because the memory became too much. Why couldn’t Kaim see he’d rather hold his quivering body through every panic attack, through every nightmare, spend endless waking hours calming him than have his mind irreparably damaged.

“Maybe it would be worth it, to rid myself of something so crippling,” Kaim shot back, his face twisted in a frown. How could Dorian not see that his life might be infinitely better? Ridding himself of the memory didn’t negate that it happened, and these panic attacks were a liability. He wasn’t reliable as long as they could happen.

“Kaim, I am begging you to consider carefully the implications of this course of action. There is a _reason_ mind altering magic is very heavily frowned upon! One change can cause a disastrous cascade effect.” Dorian’s voice begged for reason and Kaim blinked at him angrily.

“What could possibly be a detrimental effect of losing _that_ particular memory?” Kaim snapped harshly.

“You might not love me anymore.”

That brought Kaim up short. “What?”

“Can you guarantee that one memory being erased, those hours of pain and suffering, of humiliation and agony...that getting rid of those won’t alter the way you think? Can you promise me?” His voice was laced with desperation and Kaim stared at him wide eyed. “This isn’t a matter of easing the pain of poor Aunt So-And-So passing. This memory occurred at a pivotal moment in your mental development. It shaped you into who you are today. It has given you drive; it has taught you how Tevinter _must_ change. What of all the other awful memories of your slavery? With that one gone those will appear worse. Will you then rid yourself of them too?” Dorian’s eyes rose, sadness etched in every feature.

“Kaim, I hate seeing you suffer. I loath my inability to help you, my helplessness. But I would rather hold you through every shuddered breath than wake up to the knowledge that you no longer feel for me.”

Kaim came forward and slipped his arms over Dorian’s shoulders, pulling him down to embrace him tightly, feeling him turn into his neck, burying his face in his long hair, his own fingers carding through Dorian’s shorter hair. “I’m just so tired,” Kaim murmured into Dorian’s shoulder.

“I am here, and you are light.” He emphasized his point in a literal manner by lifting Kaim bodily from the ground, holding him in his arms, feet dangling. “Please let me carry you.”

“And what about you?” Kaim’s arms tightened around Dorian.

“You are already lessening my pain just by remaining by my side.” The words Dorian could not say, the ones lodged in his throat were that every time Kaim said he loved him, that look his eyes, the brilliance of their sparkle, the warmth of his voice, with each one his heart mended a bit. The damage of years of parental abandonment, of lovers casting him aside, of his father’s betrayal, of neglect, little by little Kaim was replacing those pieces of his heart that had eroded away. To lose Kaim might take from him more than he had left to give. His arms tightened around Kaim.

“Don’t ever leave me.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:   
> In the wake of the Trespasser DLC release as well as other events going on in my life I have decided to take a short hiatus. It will likely be no more than a month or so. I definitely plan on finishing this, and sooner rather than later. However, not only have I found myself quite drained lately trying to keep up with this schedule, but I also need to think on the implications the DLC might have on Kaim's particular story. And whether or not I will be following BioWare's canon.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and sticking with me for 100K+ words! And thank you for all your amazing comments! They seriously give me life. I will be back! I promise! I'm not giving a date, but I'm hoping it will be around a month. Stay tuned!

The keep was dilapidated and in poor condition as the prior occupants did little to clean up after themselves, with most of the rooms unusable as of yet, but parts of it were blessedly dry. At this point little else mattered to the waterlogged group. Kicking the bandits out and claiming the fort had been Kaim's best idea recently.

Dorian followed Kaim as he explored some of the more rundown portions of the stronghold, peeking in unused rooms and unearthing collapsed hallways. He carefully watched Kaim. It had been a few days since Kaim's panic attack and they hadn't spoken of it since then.

Kaim had disappeared without a word for a good portion of the day before, leaving him, Cassandra, and Cole to work with the inquisition agents arriving at the keep to occupy it. Considering his mental state Dorian wondered if it was wise to leave him be. Perhaps time alone was what he needed? He wanted so badly to help Kaim, but he was out of his depth and had no idea how to deal with someone who'd suffered such overwhelming trauma.

Dorian sighed quietly to himself, straightening his blessedly dry robes. The rain seemed to finally be letting up. Now that they'd drained the lake they could finally close the rift, meet up with Hawke, and get out of this abysmal place.

The thought of Hawke brought a frown to Dorian's face.

" _Amatus_?"

Kaim turned to glance over his shoulder at Dorian.

"Tell me honestly, how are you doing?" He sidled close to Kaim, wrapping an arm securely around his shoulders and pulling him into his warmth. "I didn't know whether to leave you be, or-" He paused and leaned in, kissing Kaim's temple.

"I'm..." Kaim hesitated, "I don't know if this will make any sense, but it's not so loud now." He stared straight ahead, lost in thought. "It doesn't feel as...desperate, sharp, almost like it's been numbed slightly." He shook his head, his ponytail dancing. "I don't know how else to describe it. It still hurts, but it feels lessened." Finally his eyes rose to meet Dorian's and the taller man melted. His blue green eyes were always his undoing.

"I understand you." His fingers brushed Kaim's cheek with a soft smile. "And I am relieved. Perhaps now time will be allowed to help dull the pain."

Kaim nodded with a smile before lifting onto his toes to give Dorian a sweet, chaste kiss, a gesture that warmed his heart in comfort. Dorian hadn't initiated any contact with Kaim at all, at least not in a romantic sense. After something so damaging had been ripped to the surface the last thing Dorian wanted was to make Kaim uncomfortable or trigger another panic attack. As it stood he would still wait until Kaim initiated again, but it was a comfort, regardless of how chaste.

Kaim gave him a soft smile, interlacing their fingers, while they continued their tour of the keep, chatting about inconsequential things as they wandered.

Near the underbelly of the stronghold arose a door they were unable to open. It appeared to be bolted from both sides, as unlatching the side they were on failed to open the portal. Kaim returned to the main level of the keep to inquire with the scoutmaster as to her knowledge of what lay beyond.

“Oh, that door? According to the layout it leads to the caves that run down to the sea where boats used to moor, providing safe harbor for incoming supplies and reinforcements. When the darkspawn invaded Crestwood the level was sealed from both sides to prevent them overrunning the keep. It didn’t work out for them, unfortunately. But the passage has been sealed since, as none have been able to make it down into the harbor to reopen it.”

An intrigued gleam entered Kaims eyes, glittering in the dim light and suddenly his face broke out in a grin.

“ _Kaffas_ , I know that face. You’re about to do something foolish...”

Kaim grinned and whirled away, jogging toward the upper levels.

“Kaim! Kaim, come back here!” Dorian chased his lover, a sinking feeling in his gut. That was the look Kaim got when he was about to get high on adrenaline. Dorian hated that look. It was all Dorian could do to keep up with the limber elf as he skipped his way through the keep, ascending to the uppermost heights of the battlements. Cassandra and Cole took notice of Kaim’s pace and jogged to catch up.

Kaim briefly surveyed the walls, glancing over the edge and out at the water. Satisfied he nodded, removing a few instruments that would do poorly in water, and setting them on a nearby wall.

“Kaim, what are you-”

“Wait for me on the other side of that door.” Kaim grinned, striding a few steps back past Dorian.

Cassandra and Cole came running up, both out of breath. “What is-?”

Blindingly fast, Kaim sprinted past all them headed straight for the wall.

“KAIM, NO!!!!” Dorian ran after the elf, watching in horror as he leapt right before the wall, gathering his legs under him and using the wall as a bounding point, leaping as far out into open air as possible, his body gracefully arcing, arms wide as he formed a dive.

“KAIM!!” All three companions surged at the wall, desperately watching over the edge as the elf plummeted toward the cliff below and the sea, his black hair streaming out behind him as the wind tore at it. The arc of his dive carried him well out above the water as the keep actually hung over the lake and the cliff face, but that didn’t negate the fear of unseen rocks beneath the surface. Dorian’s heart clenched painfully in his chest as the elf surged beneath the waves with a large splash, despite the grace of his dive.

Moments dragged past with no sign of the Inquisitor. Just when Dorian was about to go mad with emotion the surface abruptly broke and Kaim shot up. From this distance they couldn’t hear the intake of breath, but from the way his body bowed it was obvious this was what had occurred.

“ _Vishante kaffas_ , I’m going to kill that man!” Dorian growled, furious with his lover. Kaim’s adrenaline addicted ways were wearing on his sanity.

“I’ll help you,” Cassandra grumbled in equal irritation.

As Dorian led the group to the door they'd found, Kaim swam his way through the rolling surf to the large cave harbor beneath the keep. The water grew choppy as the space narrowed near the docks and it took several tries before he managed to land a handhold on the decrepit mooring and pull himself from the freezing waters.

Despite their soaked state, his boots made not a sound as he stalked his way along the disused paths, his daggers sliding easily and silently from their sheaths. Curiosity drew his attention to the soaring cave ceiling, down the moisture laden walls and across the docks where abandoned crates still lay stacked.

This harbor had been abandoned in a hurry. The reason became apparent when he passed a cave entrance in one wall, obviously an accidental access point, where darkspawn had filtered through. The rough edges of the entry point were coated in signs of the taint.

Silently Kaim moved past and up the passage, following the large pathway toward the keep. As the light from the harbor faded the passage became darker and Kaim's pace slowed, allowing his eyes to adjust.

Finally he reached the door, eyeing the heavy bolts that held it shut, as well as the skeletal remains of the men who'd given their lives to ensure it was so. It took significant work, but Kaim managed to pry the rusted bars loose to lift them from their locking point.

Without his provocation the door swung open, his eyes squinting at the sudden flood of light, and he grinned at the scowling faces of Dorian and Cassandra.

"Hey!"

"Don't you 'hey' me!" Dorian sounded extremely angry.

“Relax, I knew what I was doing.” Kaim smiled, stepping closer.

“I swear, Kaim, one of these days-!” Dorian’s rush of words were interrupted by Kaim’s lips as the elf kissed him repeatedly, cutting off any attempt he made to speak, cupping Dorian’s face despite his wet gauntlets.

“I’m-... I-... we’ll be over here,” Cassandra sputtered, seizing Cole by his jacket and bodily dragging the spirit back down the hallway.

“But the kisses make it better-” Cole complained.

“SHUSH!!!” Cassandra snapped.

Dorian attempted to push Kaim back, but only succeeded in tangling them further as Kaim pressed against him, smelling of salt and the sea mixed in with his normal scent, his wet ponytail draping his shoulders, and his kisses continuing to smother Dorian’s protests.

“You!-” Dorian forced him back. “Maddening adrenaline addict!” The Tevinter complained as Kaim pressed kisses across his face, the bluster somewhat deflated out of him. The surge of adrenaline had definitely improved Kaim's spirits, and far be it from Dorian to refuse the attention being lavished on him. “This may be the person you are, but I don’t have to like it!” Dorian sounded as stern as he could manage with Kaim’s soft lips caressing every inch of skin on his face.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.” Kaim grinned mischievously then claimed Dorian’s lips, their sharp breaths filling the silence as the kiss grew more passionate, their tongues, teeth, and lips battling for dominance. It had only been a few days but Maker, Dorian had missed this! Kaim lifted onto his toes and ground his hips against Dorian's, discovering the erection hidden beneath his robes and matching it with his own.

Dorian forcibly pushed him back. "You're terrible," he half chuckled, half growled.

"And you love it," Kaim insisted, seizing his chin and giving him one last burning kiss. "We need to close the darkspawn's access point, then I have something I want to show you," Kaim grinned, "as part of my apology."

Dorian narrowed his eyes at his lover, but no further explanation was forthcoming from Kaim, so the group followed him into the harbor and sealed the cave entrance, shoring it up to prevent repeated collapse.

After, Kaim took Dorian by the hand, interlacing their fingers with a smile, before leading him to a side room that apparently only he had the key for. Dorian had assumed he'd claimed it for his office, but upon entry there was only one small table in the corner and a ladder that led down.

"Wait, isn't this where we killed that giant spider?" Dorian asked peevishly as Kaim locked the door behind them.

The elf nodded with a grin. "But wait til you see it now."

Dorian eyed him curiously and followed Kaim down the ladder. Upon reaching the bottom he found Kaim by a table on the landing that hadn't been there previously, unbuckling his leathers with a mischievous smile.

To his amazement the cave was drastically changed. There were statues holding lit braziers lining the underground pool and the vermin had been cleared away, but the most notable feature was the steam.

"It's actually an underground hot spring?" Dorian asked incredulously.

"Yes! When I cleared out the debris and overgrowth and got the water flowing again it came out hot. So I claimed the only keys to the entry and it's now our personal hot spring." He gave Dorian a pleased grin, now completely nude and wading into the clear, warm water. Without hesitation Dorian quickly stripped and joined him.

Light filtered through the hanging vines at the mouth of the cave, contrasting with the orange glow of the fires, giving it a hazy, relaxing atmosphere and Dorian felt his stress melting away.

"So this is where you disappeared to yesterday. There's no chance of the vermin returning?" Dorian asked curiously, sinking up to his shoulders.

"No, I blocked all the entry points and the rest were covered with gates." He waded to Dorian's side and tugged his hand, guiding him to one side where he'd set up rocks to sit on. "Is this a good enough apology?" He grinned as Dorian relaxed.

"It could use some wine...maybe a minstrel. But you're getting there," Dorian teased, closing his eyes.

"Ass," Kaim chuckled.

"I know, I can't help it." The mage smiled broadly.

"No, I was stating intent." Kaim's husky voice was close to his face and Dorian felt his erection immediately perk up as he claimed his lips. Under the water Kaim's hands separated his thighs and raised them, tilting his hips. A groan from Dorian filled Kaim's mouth at the feeling of a finger gently pressing into him, taking his time in preparing him, allowing his finger to dip in and out lazily.

After Kaim was satisfied he added a second finger, scissoring and curling them to stroke the sensitive spot deep inside him. Back arched, Dorian pushed back against the probing digits, forcing them deeper and Kaim groaned, nibbling teasingly on Dorian's lower lip.

"Kaim, if you aren't in me in a few moments..." He couldn't finish the thought because Kaim wiggled his fingers, pressuring his prostate and drawing a loud, wanting groan from the mage.

"Kaim!" Dorian complained. With a self-satisfied grin the elf removed his fingers and poised himself against his ass. Achingly slowly he pushed into his lover, leaving them both panting, their moans of ecstasy echoing off the cave walls.

Kaim adopted a smooth pace, the water churning around his hips as he thrust in and out of him, Dorian's nails digging tracks down his arms.

As the heat between them built Kaim realized the water would be a hindrance, not to mention it was becoming too warm. Deftly, he wrapped his arms around Dorian's hips and ass and lifted, shocking the mage who threw his arms over Kaim's shoulders and clung to him.

Out of the water Dorian's weight bore down even harder on Kaim's erection and he groaned wantonly, reveling in how deep he was inside him. With a strength that astounded Dorian, Kaim increased the pace, thrusting upward while gripping Dorian’s hips to pull him down in time with his motions, driving into him hard and fast.

It was almost too much, but Dorian held off as long as he could, riding the tide of pleasure that coursed through him with each thrust. His legs clenched around Kaim's hips as the heat in his belly coiled tighter and tighter, moaning so loudly he was sure they could hear him above, uncaring as Kaim's name tumbled from his lips.

"Come for me, _Vhenan_ ," Kaim whispered huskily against his ear and Dorian was undone. Head thrown back, he growled Kaim's name loudly, his hips bucking hard, the thick evidence if his pleasure coating both their abs, his muscles clenching unbearably hard on the thick erection inside him.

Kaim growled Dorian's name, pounding into his love a few final times as he filled him with his seed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Tenderly he pulled out, nearly collapsing into the water as he let Dorian's feet down, his thighs quivering.

"Whoa, steady, Kaim," Dorian chuckled, bracing the elf's shoulders, who gave him a tired grin in return. Once he was sure his love wouldn't fall over they both sank with a sigh into the warm water once again.

Dorian leaned back against the rocks, allowing his head to fall back, his arms braced to either side, the water lapping to his collarbones as he exhaled another contented sigh.

"Was that a better apology?" Kaim asked, kissing his neck lightly, before settling next to Dorian, his head resting against the mocha shoulder.

"Mmmm...the best." Dorian grinned and kissed the top of Kaim's head.

"Enough to overlook the lack of wine and minstrels?" Kaim's voice was teasing.

"I wasn't paying enough attention. Let us test it again and I will infer judgement afterward-" Kaim's laugh along with a splash interrupted Dorian, soaking him. Dorian returned the gesture with his own laughter, dragging Kaim into the water with him. It reminded him of more simple times, so many years ago in Tevinter.

\---

The skies were finally blessedly clear, the rift was closed, the air smelled clean, and they were tired but satisfied with their progress. Now they made their way toward the cave in Hawke's message. Hopefully some good news came of this.

The trip from the keep to the cave wasn't terribly far, but it still took them a few hours. As they approached the location Kaim called a halt, his eyes darting, senses on alert.

"Wait here," he commanded before vanishing from sight. His ability to do that still unnerved Dorian. Hidden from view Kaim stalked through the tall grasses, leaving not a trace of his passing, fingers playing at the hilts of his daggers. Using his Tevinter assassin skills as well as his Dalish hunter skills, he honed in on his prey, a wide grin lighting his face when he finally spotted them.

Moving close to the ground, he circled wide, ensuring he came in behind them. One dagger slid soundlessly from its sheath, his steps slowing to guarantee he was not heard by his target. Silent as the grave, he slipped in behind his game and pressed his dagger against the soft, unshaven skin of their throat.

"You're good," Hawke chuckled, relaxing as he realized it was the blunt edge of the dagger against his neck. "Not many people can sneak up on me, even fewer can move in close enough to threaten me." Hawke leaned back, turning his head so his face was close enough to feel Kaim's breath on his cheek.

"Not many are trained Tevinter assassins and Dalish hunters." The dagger flipped through Kaim's nimble fingers as he stood back with a superior smirk.

"Tevinter? I thought the technique was familiar. Although I did meet a Dalish hunter once, and I have never seen another as skilled in tracking as she." Hawke stood from his own crouched position. "We should spar at some point. I'd love to see that technique up close and personal." His grin was flirtatious.

"And my dagger close enough to give you a shave wasn't up close and personal enough for you?" Kaim chuckled.

"You can always get closer." Hawke waggled his eyebrows and Kaim threw back his head in a laugh.

"With only a very few exceptions, most of those who experience that are dead...and a few still have it coming. Are you sure you wish to tempt fate and discover which category you fall into?" Kaim couldn't seem to help himself. Hawke's smooth, suave attitude was beyond flattering. It reminded him of his and Dorian's early flirtation.

A good distance away Dorian frowned, watching the two men speaking. Though he was too far to hear the words the posture and expressions were obvious. Hawke was flirting and Kaim wasn't exactly reciprocating, but he wasn't exactly turning Hawke down flat either. Dorian's frown deepened, his chest tightening. Kaim had reassured him that Dorian was the only one for him, but were his actions contradicting his words? Not quite. But they weren't helping.

Eventually Kaim turned and waved them over and Dorian worked hard to bring his expression back to one of placid neutrality. For a moment Dorian was pleased his training as a nobleman's son brought him an advantage, until Kaim turned to him with a smile as they approached, a smile that rapidly faded as a questioning look crossed his features. Damnit, for a moment he'd forgotten Kaim was as well versed in these techniques as he was. Feigning innocence, Dorian flashed him a brilliant smile and Kaim blinked twice before smiling back a little less certainly.

Jealousy surged in his chest once more when Hawke leaned close to one of Kaim's sweeping ears and spoke low, eliciting a laugh from him. As the party approached, Kaim left Hawke’s side and moved to Dorian, pulling him down by the front of his silken robe and planting a quick kiss against his lips, a questioning smile on his face which Dorian ignored in favor of eyeing Hawke. The Champion watched them with interest, a teasing smile dancing across his face before he gave Dorian a mock salute, and turned back to Kaim.

“My Grey Warden friend should be inside. Shall we pop in and see if we can catch him with his knickers down?” Hawke cackled.

“If we accomplish this then he may not be an ally we desire,” Cassandra muttered.

“For shame, Lady Seeker. I merely jest. He’s quite the jumpy sort actually. Fifth blight survivor and all that.” Hawke shrugged with a smile and followed Kaim as he headed into the cave. A frown pulled at Dorian’s lips at the way Hawke glanced at him over his shoulder before turning forward to face Kaim once more. He was baiting him on purpose and Dorian would not rise to it. Nobles played this game more gracefully than Hawke ever could and he would not fall prey to these bumbling, tactless attempts. Telling himself this did not make him feel any better though.

Kaim stalked through the darkened tunnel, his mind distracted from the impending encounter. Dorian was clearly upset about something, and he hadn't been before, therefore it had to have something to do with Hawke. This back and forth with them was becoming tiresome. Was this what it was like to be in a legitimate relationship? Kaim remembered overhearing nobles complaining about romantic partners, either through their own jealousy or over the other being jealous.

It was impossible to fathom before, but now he saw how easily it happened with Dorian. He remembered the stabbing pain of watching Dorian with Rilenius though, so how could he expect less of Dorian? Kaim frowned. He severely doubted Hawke was actually serious in his attentions, and nothing said thus far had been harmful, nor had Kaim encouraged him. Was it so wrong to be appreciated?

Confused thoughts buffeted his mind like the coast in a storm, with no resolution or relief in sight. A backlit door loomed before him and he shoved his tumultuous thoughts aside, pushing it tentatively open.

A few steps into the torchlight and Kaim's instincts kicked in. He turned fluidly and pinched the tip of the sword pointed at him, flicking it away, and smirking at the surprised expression on the man's face.

"Alistair, it's just us. I brought the Mini Quizzy." Hawke grinned at Kaim's annoyed eyebrow.

"Really, Hawke?" Kaim complained, annoyed when Hawke cackled harder.

"How do I know you've brought the right one? I've already met one impostor. And he was significantly taller." Alistair drawled out the last word, eyeing Kaim.

"Would you like to see my credentials?" Kaim asked sarcastically, peeling back the leather of his glove to allow the green flames licking up his palm to be exposed.

"Well, that certainly looks legitimate, unlike the green goo the other guy smeared on his palm." Alistair nodded with an impressed expression. "Took you all long enough to get here." He eyed Hawke, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I _just_ got your message!" Hawke feigned indignation.

"And speaking of which...Widget!" Alistair turned, glancing about the cave, apparently looking for someone. An ancient looking mabari came slinking around one corner, his grey touched ears drooping, his tired eyes fixed on Alistair. "Some noble hound you are! Five people stomped their way in here and not a peep out of you! Did you even wake before I called you?"

The old dog wobbled his way over to the Grey Warden and leaned up against his legs affectionately, unperturbed by the chiding.

"You slobbering monster. Useless mutt and you're still going to get the bone out of the stew, aren't you?" Alistair smiled in fond exasperation at the dog who gazed up at him happily.

"Hawke, you said Alistair, as in Alistair Theirin? Companion to the Hero of Ferelden?" Kaim asked in surprise.

"I really need to change my name," Alistair chuckled. "Yes, that's me." He glanced down at the dog. "Why doesn't anyone have that reaction to you, I wonder?" The mabari whuffed, laying down across his feet. "Agreed. No one would remember me either if my name were Widget." He turned back to them.

"And that's the same mabari she traveled with?" Kaim was shocked, staring down at the greying dog who gazed back at him lazily, a distinct intelligence in his eyes, despite his age.

"The very same. Though he was a sight more sprightly back then. The taint affects us all, usually sooner rather than later. He's too old for where she was going, so she sent him with me."

"You know where Mahariel is?" Cassandra demanded, stepping forward.

"Ah," Alistair chuckled uncomfortably, "please don't ask. I can't tell you where she is. Grey Warden business." Widget whuffed again at his feet. "Hush you, you're not supposed to tell them either. You're terrible at keeping secrets." He chided the dog again, rolling his eyes. Kaim wasn't sure whether to laugh or if he was serious.

After speaking at length about Corypheus it was agreed that Alistair and Hawke would make their way back to Skyhold to rest. The Winter Palace Ball was fast approaching. They wouldn't have time to travel the entire Western Approach before then.

\---

When you received a missive from the Queen of Ferelden asking for assistance it wasn’t wise to ignore it. Skyhold may have been outside her realm’s influence, but it was never prudent to incense a monarch, especially one as level headed as Anora turned out to be. So when the request arrived for the Inquisition’s help in clearing out the last of the Venatori at Redcliff, Kaim and his group went in person to oversee the army’s reclamation efforts.

Townsfolk began trickling back in and Arl Teagan was especially grateful for their assistance, offering the Inquisitor’s company board in the keep itself while the soldiers were allowed free board in the tavern.

The statue in the small market place was warm from the sun and Dorian eagerly leaned against it, still unaccustomed to the bitter cold of the south despite the weather being rather moderate. Next to him leaned Varric while Cassandra paced in front of them, scowling as usual.

“What’s taking Kaim so long? I thought this was just a brief meeting for the Arl to extend his gratitude and then we could get going,” she growled, eager to be on their way. Despite the offer they hadn’t planned on staying, too many tasks lay ahead of the Inquisitor to tarry in soft feathered beds.

“Patience, Seeker. He’ll be along. There’s plenty of daylight left,” Varric chuckled.

“Oh _no_ , we may need to stay the night…how inconvenient…” Dorian drawled sarcastically, examining his nails in boredom.

“If I have to go back in there and drag him-” A commotion around a nearby building halted her words and the three companions turned their heads in time to see Kaim, his face contorted in sheer terror, come sprinting around the corner. Moments later a gaggle of four giggling women rounded the building after him, their ample bosoms bouncing to the point of nearly dislodging from their bodices as they chased after him with shrill calls of “Inquisitor!”

“I’M ADDING A DAMN HOOD TO MY ARMOR!” he shouted as he sprinted past them, his hair streaming almost straight behind him. “I’LL BE HIDING IN THE WOODS!” Honestly Dorian had never seen him run so fast in his life and they all watched him sprint for the gates, disappearing around the stone wall The girls were rapidly falling behind but they kept after and soon disappeared too.

A few silent moments followed his hasty departure before all three simultaneously burst out laughing, their entire frames shaking to the point that Dorian actually had to sit down against the statue and hold his sides.

“Did I really just see that?” Dorian gasped between laughs.

“Never ever tell him I said this…but I actually feel sorry for him,” Cassandra wheezed, wiping her eyes.

“Ah, poor Kaim. Hawke had the same problem.” Varric rubbed his furry chest with a grin. “He avoided Hightown like the plague because of all the noble women throwing themselves at him. In Lowtown at least he was better able to blend in. Not so much in Hightown.”

The companions continued to lounge in their chosen spot until the group of women reappeared, bemoaning their luck at losing him and giggling to themselves. Cassandra made a disgusted sound as she pushed off the statue where she’d finally leaned next to Dorian. He’d threatened to cut her braid off in her sleep if she didn’t stop her infernal pacing.

Casually the group meandered to the gates, determined to seek no further attention or confrontation, nor arouse suspicion from Kaim’s admirers, who continued to hang around the entryway to the town in case the Inquisitor returned. Dorian chuckled to himself, oh Kaim _would_ be teased for this. That expression of absolute terror on his face had been glorious.

Once they were a suitable distance from Redcliff the group stopped and looked around. There was no sign of Kaim.

“You can come out, Inquisitor. The scary women are gone,” Cassandra called, crossing her arms. They waited a moment.

Nothing.

“Perhaps he isn’t nearby?” Dorian yawned and stepped to the side of the road, leaning up against a tree. A leaf drifted down onto his shoulder and he glanced at it before lifting a hand to brush it away disdainfully. Then he froze. Movement flickered across the metal filaments on his armor and he slowly raised his head. Directly above him, crouched on a branch was a figure, his form almost completely shrouded by leaves, eyes glowing down at him from the dim lighting filtering through the thick foliage.

“ _VENHEDIS_!” he swore, the sight scaring him witless until he realized it was Kaim. “ _Festis bei umo canavarum_ , Kaim!”

Cassandra approached him in alarm, her hand on her sword. “What? What is wrong, Dorian?!”

“Oh, nothing, we just have a tree hugging ELF spying on us from above!” he snapped peevishly, pulling his staff to poke it at the figure above him. Kaim chuckled and dodged it easily, somersaulting down off the branch and into sight.

“I had to be sure they were gone,” he said nervously, glancing back toward Redcliff. “I wouldn’t put it past one of you to conceal them until I came out of hiding and let them pounce on me.”

Varric gave a full bellied laugh. “Was their attention so bad?”

“One of them touched my hair!” he wailed, grabbing it up in both hands and pulling on it, an expression of agony on his features.

“How terrifying for you. Must you be so melodramatic?” Cassandra snorted.

“Beg your pardon!” Dorian snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting out a hip. “That’s MY hair, thank you.”

Kaim glared at her. “What he said. Besides, you don’t understand,” he said emphatically. Lifting his hands in front of him, he made a circle in the air around himself. “Personal space,” he hissed, “I need it. And no one touches my hair without permission!” He threw one last glare over his shoulder at the town behind them.

“Your hair is a mess most of the time. Why is it so important?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow at him.

“It is NOT a mess! You take that back!” Kaim retorted indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s an elf. His hair is supposed to look flighty. Fenris’ hair was always in his eyes and all over the place. Isabela tried to do something with it one day and even she gave up,” Varric chuckled.

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a backhanded insult, but I’ll take it.” Kaim narrowed his eyes at Varric who laughed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SO SO SO SO sorry for how long this update took! But! I now have a good idea of the outline for the ending to Kaim's story. It is simply a matter of getting it all down and filling in the blanks. This hiatus was pretty much the best thing I could have done for this story. I had been toying with the idea of abandoning it. However, I now have a set plan for it, and that helps immeasurably. 
> 
> That having been said, I will not be going back to a regular update schedule, that was simply too stressful, especially with a child, my full time job, and the holidays here in the USA . I do promise though to update as quickly as possible and not leave you all in the lurch. 
> 
> Do not forget to follow me on [tumblr](http://selydra.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to see my art, occasional text updates on the story, as well as questions about Kaim. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and sticking with me!

“So this ‘no touchie’ rule of yours, does it apply to me as well?” Dorian asked, approaching Kaim from behind and winding his arms about his waist. A soft kiss was planted against Kaim's neck before Dorian retreated to sit next to him in his plush library chair.

Kaim smiled at Dorian. “Only when you self-impose it.” A smile lit Dorian’s face in return, remembering those days when Kaim had been his property. “I merely had a realization in the years of our separation. I had believed the excessive touching was due to my status as a possession, but I discovered much to my chagrin, that there are still people who think absolutely nothing of personal boundaries and will touch and impede on personal space with less than a thought. Tamsas eventually told me I didn’t have to put up with such indignities anymore, especially from humans.” Kaim snickered, remembering the bar fight and subsequent scolding from the Keeper.

“Tamsas. I remember you mentioning the name. He is a friend from Clan Lavellan?" Dorian was shocked when Kaim's face completely fell.

"Was."

Dorian waited patiently, his face a mask of gentle empathy, understanding this was likely something Kaim struggled with.

"He...was actually cruel to me when I initially joined the clan, but eventually he became my closest friend. He attended the Conclave with me."

Dorian could care less that they were in the library in full view of Fiona, Helisma, and a plethora of other bystanders; the way Kaim’s voice broke at the end of his statement told him enough. His arms tightened around Kaim, pulling the smaller elf into his lap and holding him close.

"He was the only one in the clan who knew about us," Kaim continued once he'd regained control of his voice. "The Keeper had asked him to find out why her matchmaking attempts were failing so abysmally." Kaim smiled sadly when Dorian snorted rather ungracefully.

"Later on he accompanied me when I stopped by any of the local taverns, checking for news on you." Kaim chuckled at the memory. "That's how this happened actually." His finger gently traced the scar that spanned his lips on his right side. "One of the patrons recognized Pavus as a Tevinter name and began making disparaging and insulting comments. I was originally going to ignore them, but he pressed the issue, forcing himself into my space and spouting venom about how Tevinter slavers and sympathizers deserved to die. Tamsas shoved himself between us, pushing the man back and attempting to defuse the situation, but it just happened to make things worse. We were turning to leave when one of his friends joined in. A bar fight ensued during which my head met the bartop and the broken glass atop it." He gestured at the scar again. "I discovered a distinct enjoyment for brawling, as I happened to be exceptionally good at it, and found out the wrath of the Keeper was nothing to sniff at."

Dorian had his face pressed into his palm, chuckling madly. "You realize you are only allowed to claim proficiency at brawling if you come out unscathed, yes?" He considered Kaim with twinkling eyes.

Kaim lifted his chin arrogantly. "You should have seen the other guy. By comparison this was nothing."

"Brawling," Dorian drawled, "had better not become a favored pastime." His voice was gentle and teasing, but held a serious edge. Kaim's new habits of enjoying exceedingly dangerous hobbies was becoming a bit much for Dorian's nerves.

"Only when _ma vhenan's_ honor is impugned." Kaim gave him a half-lidded, seductive smile and Dorian laughed.

"Insufferable kiss ass." Satisfied he'd distracted Kaim from his sadness, he pushed him from his lap and back onto his feet. "Now go get me that horridly dry volume on the Orlesian Chantry's estimations of the evils of the Black Divine. I believe the author referenced a magical archive-" he paused when he realized Kaim was staring down at him with one eyebrow raised, arms crossed, and a hip cocked to the side. "It's for a good cause, _Amatus_." Dorian grinned.

"You know, you wouldn't be so cold if you got off your finely shaped derriere and fetched a thing or two for yourself." Kaim turned to leave the niche, casting a teasing glance over his shoulder.

"Why would I when watching you sashay about is more than enough to warm me?" Dorian leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his chin on the heel of his palm, glittering eyes following the movements of Kaim's hips.

Kaim laughed and headed off to search the book stacks for the requested volume, quickly discovering the task to be more difficult than originally thought. Dorian had done an admirable job organizing the library, but there were several mages and agents of Leliana's that frequented the library and apparently felt it necessary to alter the filing system, claiming the one they were accustomed to at the Circle was more efficient.

Kaim grumbled as he continued searching the shelves. Raised voices drew his attention back across the circular space to Dorian's niche. What could Mother Giselle possibly want with Dorian?

“-You’d be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me, your Reverence.” Now wasn’t that quite the line to walk in on?

“Oh, Inquisitor...I-” Mother Giselle immediately looked contrite and Kaim raised one eyebrow at her.

“What’s going on here?”

“It seems the Revered Mother is concerned about my ‘undue influence’ over you.” Dorian crossed his arms with a smile, giving Kaim a sidelong look.

“It is _just_ concern, your Worship. You must understand how this looks.” Her words held heavy insinuation and Kaim stared at her through narrowed eyes, already knowing where this was headed.

“You might need to spell it out, my dear.” Dorian worked hard to keep the levity from his voice. Judging by Kaim’s expression this was about to become amusing quite quickly.

"Not only is this man of Tevinter but it is rumored he was your master," Mother Giselle insisted, her voice filled with over dramatized horror. Kaim wasn't impressed.

"Oh no. _Whatever_ will we do?" Kaim crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes so hard that Dorian snorted.

"This is serious, Inquisitor-!"

"Not even remotely. I was born in Rivain, lived as a slave in Tevinter for ten years, then became Dalish. If anything, people should be appalled I'M in the inquisition, let alone leading it."

"So is it true? This man _was_ your master?" She looked horrified, completely disregarding half of what Kaim had just said.

"Yeeessss.” Kaim pinched the bridge of his nose. “He saved my life, protected me, taught me to read, write, do math, and saw to my education in more subjects than most Tevinter children. He clothed me in expensive garments, gave me my own room, let me use anything of his I desired, then purchased my freedom at great political and personal expense." Kaim crossed his arms over his chest.

"At what cost?" The heavy insinuation in her voice thoroughly irritated him. What business was it of hers?

"Hmm, I had to put up with his jokes-"

"Hey!-"

"Dress him -the poor man put his robes on backward when I wasn’t around-, brought him his food...or he forgot to eat...he yelled at me when I tidied up the room..." Kaim tapped his chin with one finger thoughtfully.

"I'm really an awful person," Dorian insisted.

"Inquisitor-"

"I know what you THINK and NO. Dorian and I did not have a sexual relationship until I was a free man, which is really no business of yours." He arched a brow at her while she at least had the courtesy to blush. Dorian was quickly coming to realize that eyebrow was a deadly weapon.

"I did leer at you quite a bit though."

"Not helping."

"I'm just saying, I'm not all saint."

"Shut up, Dorian. That's precisely what I’m trying to say."

"And I messed up terribly when I first purchased you, if you'll recall..."

"Are you purposefully trying to sabotage me?!"

"Well we can't have people LIKING me, now can we?"

"I like you so I don't see why not."

"Yes, but as Mother Giselle was pointing out you're my former slave and too jaded to have good judgment. Therefore your opinion on the matter is moot."

"That was not at all-!"

"Shush, please. I'm yelling at him."

Mother Giselle proceeded to stand there a moment dumbstruck, watching the two lovers bicker. From the adoring way Dorian gazed at Kaim to the stubborn way he put the noble in his place the Revered Mother knew the rumors were unfounded. A small smile graced her features.

\---

As he was leaving the library Mother Giselle caught up with him to speak privately, both to apologize and to present something to him. He took the letter from Dorian's father reluctantly, holding it as though it might bite or taint him.

For a few long moments he stood in the shadowed entryway to the circular, holding the envelope tentatively between his fingers. His first inclination was to hide it, not give it to Dorian at all. Take it back to his room and burn it, protect Dorian from the monster who'd tried to change him.

That idea he abandoned immediately as it would be a terrible breach of Dorian's privacy and trust. Yes, they were together, but Dorian was entitled to deal with the affairs of his own life and family as he saw fit, without Kaim's interference.

"Inquisitor?" Kaim glanced up to find Solas considering him with a raised brow, brush in one hand, palette in the other. "Something troubles you?"

Kaim gave him a rueful smile, finally stepping further into the room. "Selfish thoughts."

Solas gave him a kindly smile, not unlike some of the _hahren_ in clan Lavellan. "Every person is allowed moments of selfishness, even the mighty Inquisitor."

Kaim’s smile faltered. "Not when it's not my place." His eyes dropped to the envelope clutched between his hands and Solas nodded in understanding.

"Not all things have the outcome you'd expect. Perhaps allow events to play out and then see what may be made of them. There is great potential to be pleasantly surprised." Solas gave him a nod and a reassuring smile before turning back to his painting. Kaim resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at his back. Could Solas be a mind reader? How did he know? Or was he merely guessing at the contents. He hadn't exactly given specifics. He supposed it didn't matter.

Trepidation filled him as he carried the letter back up the stairs of the library.

He was quiet, leaning on the railing while Dorian read the letter.

"The gall!" The outburst brought Kaim back to Dorian's niche where the man in question was pacing like he wanted to set something on fire. " _I know my son?_ " he quoted from the letter. "The amount my _father_ knows of me would fit through the tiny slave ring of yours that I shattered!"

Kaim snorted. They had compared hands once. Dorian's fingers were easily almost twice as thick as Kaim's, and much longer. "Do you think this is a ploy to make you return to Tevinter with him?"

"I've no doubt of _that_." Dorian leaned his elbow on a shelf, pressing his knuckles against his lips. The fist with the letter rested on his hip, out of his sight. "I'm sure the ridicule of the magisterium has become more than he can bear."

"Do you believe he'd involve the Venatori?" The worry was clear in Kaim's voice. Dorian turned to consider Kaim a moment before lifting the letter to reread it in contemplation.

"No. I merely believe him to be a coward. Andraste forbid he's caught dead in the presence of the heretical Inquisitor. I don't doubt this servant is here to escort me to him. I wonder if he even knows it's you?" They stared unblinking at one another for a moment before they simultaneously burst out laughing.

"Maker preserve," Dorian chuckled as he delicately wiped one eye. "I cannot _wait_ to see his reaction."

"You realize what his first assumption about why you joined the Inquisition is going to be, yes?" Kaim asked, rubbing abs aching from laughing with the heel of his palm.

"He can _assume_ all he likes," Dorian said peevishly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wish to go merely to discover what manner of excuse he's concocted to convince me to return with him to Tevinter. Were you not at my side I'd toy with the idea he'd somehow retrieved you and returned you to my service. That is assuredly the only thing I'd have returned to Tevinter for. You. But as you stand before me the possibility of that is remote." He grinned at Kaim's snort.

"Then we will make a special trip to Redcliffe, just the two of us. We'll leave at first light." Kaim told him with a smile, turning to leave. He'd need to inform his advisors.

"Kaim." He turned back at the seriousness in Dorian's tone. "Thank you. I know this will potentially not be easy on you either."

"Come now, Dorian, don't be all _syrupy_ on me." Kaim gave him a quirked, teasing grin. "And after all you've done for me it's the least I can do."

"Now who's being _syrupy_." Dorian smirked.

\---

The trip to Redcliffe was conducted in anxious silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Kaim wondered if he'd recognize whatever servant Halward had sent, or if some of the staff had been rotated out. For Dorian's part he feared whatever leverage his father had concocted that gave him the confidence to attempt to summon him to a meeting.

With cloak and hood pulled close, they made their way through Redcliffe village toward the tavern, eager to keep their identities hidden. The last thing they needed was the townsfolk recognizing the Inquisitor and making another fuss.

Dorian's step faltered as they approached the door and Kaim turned, both hands slipping in the draping sides of fabric to cup his face and pull him into a gentle kiss. "You will be fine, _vhenan_. I will be with you the whole time."

"I do not know where I would be without you." Dorian smiled and ran a thumb along the curving, elegant blue lines under Kaim's eye. Sighing, he straightened. "Let us find out what this servant has to say and be done with this nonsense, yes?"

Kaim nodded and Dorian threw open the door.

They both slipped inside and Kaim was immediately on edge. It was much too quiet for a tavern, even this early in the day. He let the door close softly behind him, but remained near it, his eyes darting around the obviously empty room.

"Uh oh...this is not good." Dorian threw back his hood, glancing around in concern, sure that this was a trap.

"Dorian."

He froze and Kaim grew rigid in his peripheral. That was a voice he hadn't heard since the attack in Tevinter, and it was obvious that Kaim remembered it just as well.

"Father." The word fell from his lips practically dripping with irritation. Of course it had been a ruse. “So the whole story about the family retainer was just, what? A smoke screen?” Kaim could hear the disappointment lacing each word and he wordlessly stepped closer, making sure to keep his face shadowed. They hadn’t anticipated that his father would have the gall to actually show up, and Kaim was unsure if his presence would be welcome or not.

“Then you were told? I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor.” His poise was perfect as he stepped closer, his eyes trained on the shorter man behind Dorian and Kaim knew he couldn’t remain in the shadows. “I never intended for you to be involved.” Those entreating eyes didn’t fool Kaim; he remembered. That first morning when Halward stopped him in the hall and bade him look into his face so he could better judge Kaim. He remembered those cold, grey, calculating eyes.

"What you don't understand, _Halward_...is that I've _been_ involved. For a long time, really." Kaim stepped out of the shadows, pleased at the confused and indignant expression on the magister's face. As Kaim pulled his hood back it morphed to one of shocked recognition and then unbridled rage, Halward’s face darkening a few shades of red.

" _YOU_." The word should have been accompanied by spit for how spitefully it was uttered. "I should have _known_. Your indiscretion under my own roof wasn't enough so now you're dragging my family name through this... _heretical_ charade!"

"No!" Dorian took a step toward his father and jabbed an accusing finger toward his chest. "You don't _get_ to make assumptions about Kaim. Our meeting was completely by accident, not that it's any business of yours! Not after what you did! You relinquished any right to concern over my well-being when you attacked me!"

“This was _not_ what I wanted!” Halward insisted.

“I’ve never _been_ what you wanted, Father!” Dorian snapped back. “Or had you forgotten?”

Halward visibly reigned himself in. “I did not come here for this. I took a great risk even coming this far!”

“Oh, of course. Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the _dread_ Inquisitor. What would people think? What exactly is this Father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

“Why is it always like this?” Frustration bubbled in Halward’s voice and features.

“Considering you attacked him, tried to fundamentally change him, and then lied to get him to even meet with you, I’d say his anger is justified.” Kaim’s expression was scathing.

"Shut up, slave!"

"You have no right to speak to him that way!" Dorian snapped. "First, he was legally freed. Secondly, he is the commander of a powerful army, is a religious icon, and a rapidly growing political power. Not only that, he possess magic at his beck and call never before seen in all of Thedas, and he is no mage. He has walked physically in the fade. He has accomplished more in his short life of freedom than you have in _all_ your life, for all your posturing and political maneuvering."

“You would truly throw your life away then? For this knif-” he snapped his mouth shut on the word at the livid expression that crossed Dorian’s face, “-for this elf. This _man_. You will be spurned at every turn. You will never amount to anything!” Halward was practically begging. “What could this...man possibly offer that is more important than upholding your family name?”

"I _love_ Dorian," Kaim snapped, interrupting him. "That’s what. Unlike _you_ , there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him, any length I wouldn't go to ensure his safety, _nothing_ I wouldn't do to ensure his happiness." He missed the way Dorian's eyes softened as he gazed at Kaim, along with the gentle smile, and the glistening unshed tears, but Halward didn't. "But you can't understand that because you've never felt the emotion in your entire life have you? You're in a loveless marriage of arrangement and your own parents shoved you off on nursemaids and teachers. Even your _friends_ are politically strategic. You have no concept of the emotion, so how _could_ you understand how important it is to those who've found it?"

"What could a slave possibly know of love? You dare assume I do not love my son-"

"I _know_ you don't love him!" Kaim's shout set both men back on their heels. "You don't attack someone you _love_! You don't hurt someone you love. You don't try to _change_ someone you love. You love someone for who they are." Kaim couldn't believe the words spilling from his mouth. Halward was right, what _did_ a slave know of love? "I know what I do of love because Dorian taught me."

Dorian startled back, staring at Kaim like he was the most incredible thing in the world.

"Dorian never treated me like I was a slave. He always treated me like I was a peer, like I was precious, like I was his friend. Unlike what you think, that night you found us was the first time we had ever crossed the line into the realm of the physical. You know why? Because he swore to me on the day I entered his service that he'd never touch me, even peripherally, without my express permission. Dorian showed me every day that I was worthwhile. Me. A slave. He was the first person to treat me as though I had something to say that was worth hearing."

Kaim paused, glaring up at the magister. "But you couldn't possibly understand any of that because you don't see slaves as people. We're furniture to you. Even your own son was just a pawn in your political game. So NO. You know nothing of love. All you've ever experienced is despair, anger, hatred, and languid disdain."

Halward stared back at him for a few long moments, the silence deafening, his face unreadable. Finally his eyes lifted to find his son standing close behind the small elf. "I understand now why you were so adamant about the reformist party, and change in Tevinter." A heavy sigh escaped him and his face fell, staring at the tavern floor.

“Why are you really here, Father?”

“My actions drove you to the Inquisition. Had I known-”

"I joined the Inquisition because it’s the _right thing to do_. Once I had a father who would have known that." Dorian’s eyes flashed in anger and indignation, daring his father to argue.

Halward merely looked resigned. "Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed. I only wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice again. I did not come to argue or for accusations. Your slave's-... _Kaim's_ presence derailed my intent. I came to beg your forgiveness."

Kaim and Dorian shared a surprised look. At Dorian’s subtle nod Kaim turned to leave.

“Inquisitor.” Halward paused. “Kaim. You may stay if you wish. This...I haven’t been kind to you, and this is something you may wish to hear as well.” Something in Halward’s voice made Kaim turn and regard him with raised brows. Was he speaking to him...kindly? “I am not infallible. I have made more mistakes in my life than I would care to admit.” Halward sank onto a nearby bar stool and sighed wearily. He suddenly appeared very old. “Chief among them, attempting to change _you_ , Dorian.”

Dorian cautiously seated himself across from Halward, as though ready to flee at any given moment, and Kaim sat rigidly beside him.

“Your convictions, your stubborn belief, your drive to bring change to Tevinter. Would that I had your qualities when I was your age. You may not be fighting such an uphill battle were that the case. Instead of standing and fighting as you have done, I chose to run, to hide, to force myself to change. It was this fear, this self-loathing, this inward condemnation that prompted my desperate actions. Actions I have come to regret deeply.” Halward leaned his elbows on the bartop tiredly.

“Wait, Father. What are you talking about? Force yourself to change? From what?” Dorian stared at him, perplexed.

“My biggest fear when you took Kaim as your slave was that you had fallen prey to the same desires I possess. It turns out I was correct, though you have shown more fortitude than I ever have.” Halward stared down at the wood instead of meeting his son’s eyes.

Dorian blinked at him blankly for a few moments. “Are you saying-?”

“Instead of holding to my natural desires as you have done, I bowed to my father’s wishes. I married the woman picked for me. I had a son and hid my shameful dalliances, the few and far between that there were.”

“Then you’re-” Dorian couldn’t even finish the statement.

“We are more alike, you and I, than you will ever care to admit.” Halward finally looked up and met his son’s eyes, his own shimmering with a lifetime of hidden shame and torment. “Be cautious, Dorian, lest your pride be your undoing.”

“I am well aware of my limitations, Father. That is fortunately a lesson Alexius managed to teach me before-” Dorian paused; speaking of Alexius was still painful. The man was incarcerated, working to help the Inquisition with his vast magical knowledge, but he was a shell of the man he used to be. It was almost worse than if he’d died.

Halward paused a moment and turned to Kaim, staring at him in a most disconcerting way, as though attempting to peer into his very soul. For the first time since Kaim had been brought into the Pavus house, Halward really looked at him. “You cannot have known his character when first you saw him dancing that night at the celebration.” His eyes were still on Kaim, but he spoke softly to Dorian. Kaim stared back, refusing to allow himself to be intimidated.

“No. That was definitely my pants doing the talking that night.” He replied casually.

“Dorian!” Halward’s focus snapped to his son, a scandalized expression etched into his features and Kaim couldn’t stop his snort.

“What? We’re being honest here, aren’t we?” Dorian grinned unrepentantly. “No, Kaim was a good little slave, but I quickly ascertained his value. He’s always been a quick learner and adept at everything he sets his mind to. He may have started out as a simple dancing slave, but he became invaluable to me.”

“A manservant who carried your effects?” Halward raised an eyebrow at him.

"You realize Kaim is the reason I passed my exams as early as I did, yes?"

Halward looked as though he'd been struck.

"It is true. He studied late into the night with me, debated magical theorem with me. He is as versed in all my subjects as I am. When my mind wandered he kept me on track. When I was lazy he called me out on it and returned me to my studies. When I was stuck on a problem we puzzled through it together. He was instrumental in helping Alexius and I deduce a way of using an amulet as a foci for time magic. Of course that went terribly awry. You know how these things go. Nevertheless, he still assisted in solving a nigh unsolvable problem." Dorian glanced at Kaim affectionately. “Were it not for Kaim I likely would have abandoned my studies, disgraced the Circle of Enchanters, and ended up a drunkard in a brothel.”

Kaim smiled softly back at him.

Halward watched the two in wistful interest. “Would that I had found someone with your strength, Kaim. My life might have turned out differently.”

“Do not lay the credit solely on my doorstep,” Kaim told him with a smile. “I could not read or even do simple math when I came into your son’s service. Much of who I am today I owe to Dorian. I owe him my life, really. I likely would have died in Magister Vyrantus’ service.”

Halward nodded. “Likely so.” He studied Kaim a few moments longer. “It is difficult to reconcile the young boy who entered your service so long ago with the young man before me now. Much has changed about you...Kaim.”

“Much has happened. When I...left your house I joined a Dalish clan for quite a few years.”

"The irony is truly a thing to behold. I expelled you from my home as punishment, and as a result you became Inquisitor." Halward chuckled ruefully. "You truly must have some divine power watching over you."

\---

Halward left soon after. As the hour was late they decided to remain at the Redcliffe inn for the night and travel back to Skyhold in the morning. The innkeep was eager to accommodate the Inquisitor himself and his companion and set them up in his nicest room. The bluster made Kaim uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny the quality of the bed was quite appreciated.

"Did you mean everything you said?" Dorian asked as he sank thankfully onto the fluffy bed, divest of all except a thin cotton shirt and loose fitting pants.

"No, I said it all just to annoy your father." Kaim sat on the edge of the bed, setting his boots to the side. He glanced over his shoulder at the stricken expression on Dorian's face and gave him a wide, teasing grin. "That was a poorly chosen joke. Of course I meant every word-" His words were cut off as he was wrapped in a crushing hug.

"To say all that...to my father's face...your former master...I...you are a braver man than I, Kaim."

Kaim pulled back, gently brushing the light tears away. "No. You are an extremely brave man, Dorian. You're abandoning thousands of years of ingrained Tevinter tradition to walk your own path. Standing up to a bully is nothing. You stood against the wishes of your father. And I am proud of you for all the work you've done in Tevinter. Maybe once the Inquisition is over and my job here is done we can do what you told me, so many years ago, that first night in your service. Maybe _together_ we can build a new Tevinter."

“You realize the magnitude of your suggestion, yes? And that you would not precisely be welcome back in Tevinter.” Dorian’s brow creased in worry.

“We will figure something out.” Kaim wrapped his arms around Dorian’s torso and rested his head on his chest, effectively ending the conversation, but that didn’t end the nagging worry in Dorian’s mind. Eventually he would need to return to Tevinter. It was an inevitability really. How could they remain together if Kaim was at such risk by returning to Tevinter?

His thoughts roiled in his mind as they settled in for the night.

\---

The Venatori were nothing if not persistent. Each time they brought more shards to the temple of Solasan they would find a new contingent of the Tevinter cultists battering the poor scout camps left behind to hold the area.

It was obvious they were becoming desperate. Each group was successively stronger, more skilled, better equipped, and filled with more mages. Dorian particularly loved killing them.

Blackwall bellowed to obtain the shield-bearer's attention while Cole flitted behind them like a shadow, his daggers seeking purchase in the soft kinks of their armor, pained screams echoing off the canyon walls.

Dorian concentrated on purging their barriers, sparkling red flecks flying from his fingers as a glyph formed on the ground beneath one of the mage's feet. It exploded, lighting their robes on fire and sending him screaming in panic.

Kaim danced with two lance bearers, the canyon walls providing him with very little room to maneuver and forcing him into a smaller dance than he was accustomed to. As a result he was unable to maneuver into the proper positions for favorable attacks and found himself mostly concentrating on dodging both jabbing lances.

A glyph materialized under his feet, and in his leap to avoid triggering it one of the lancers managed a lucky strike. Kaim growled in frustration as the force of the lance slammed his back into the canyon floor and he kicked his assailant square in the jaw. Seconds later a fireball exploded against the man’s chest sending him into a panic. The scream that tore from the Venatori as he collapsed and died was ignored.

Because of his reflexes the lance barely missed his ribcage, but it had caught his leather chest piece and pinned him firmly to the ground.

Dorian's chest clenched painfully, but before he could react Kaim proved he was uninjured by kicking out at his second assailant, forcing him back. Urgently he attempted to dislodge the spear from the ground, but the turf was soft and the force had driven it deep into the layers of oasis where the moisture's suction held it fast.

Awkwardly he kick flipped to his feet, off balance due to the lance firmly stabbed through his armor. He gripped the pole with both hands and leapt, twisting his body above the second lancer's next attack. Overbalanced, the man stumbled forward and Kaim reversed his grip mid air, wrapping his legs around the lancer's neck and twisting sharply.

With a loud crack and a gurgle his attacker collapsed to the canyon floor and Kaim nearly fell himself, the lance preventing him from landing smoothly.

A growl escaped him as he planted his feet and yanked at the pole, disheartened when it didn't budge. Without a surface to kick off it was too tall to just jump to gain his freedom. In dismay he pulled a dagger from his belt and neatly sliced through the portion of leather wrapped around the pole. Now there was a gaping hole in the side of his armor. Great.

His face turned down into a glower when he finally looked up to find the rest of the group had finished off the remaining enemies and were just standing there watching him with varied expressions of amusement.

"Big help you guys were!" He scowled at them.

"I was just curious how you planned on dealing with the situation." Blackwall chuckled.

"And let my armor be ruined!"

"It was ruined before we stopped to watch. The hole is simply now bigger." Dorian grinned.

"They told me not to help," Cole said quietly.

"You weren't supposed to tell him that!" Dorian complained.

They moved on to finish killing the guardians in the first room of the temple. The shards apparently opened three distinct paths of doors.

"We're going to need a lot more shards," Kaim said offhandedly as he approached the sarcophagus in the center of the room. As he examined it he realized it wasn't a burial place, it was...something else, but he couldn't make out all the ancient elven words.

"It's definitely ancient elven, but this isn't a grave. These coffins are for...something else. _Kaffas_ , now I'm wishing I'd had more time to learn from the texts the Keeper had," Kaim muttered. Cautiously he pushed back the heavy stone lid and peeked inside.

He lurched back abruptly with a yelp when shimmering globes of red light floated out of the darkness. Kaim made a comically panicked noise when they doggedly flew at him and one after the other sank into his chest despite his best attempts to dodge them. His skin shimmered red briefly after each one before fading. He rubbed at his chest wildly, as though trying to brush them off, a long string of Tevene curses tumbling from his lips.

"I think you'll be alright," Blackwall said dryly with a chuckle. "What was that anyway?" He turned to the mage in the group.

"They do not appear to have hurt him. Perhaps they were drawn to the mark? How do you feel, Kaim?" Dorian asked, approaching the elf and turning his face this way and that, examining him.

"Tingly..."

Dorian raised an eyebrow with a quirked smile and Kaim quickly realized what he'd said then grinned.

"It's...hard to describe. It did something to my skin, but it faded quickly."

Dorian nodded. "I think this is the reward for the test. From what I can tell you should be more resistant to fire now."

"I...what?" Kaim raised an eyebrow and Dorian chuckled.

"I believe they were nodules of magic designed to sink into the skin and increase resistance to a particular school of magic, in this case fire. Meaning the next time you are blasted by a mage or a dragon it will not burn as hot. Your skin will act as a natural barrier, nullifying some of the magic."

"Like a templar's aura?" Blackwall asked.

"Similar," Dorian conceded.

"Well they could have done it in a less heart stopping manner. I've had enough random magic flying at me and altering me," Kaim grumbled. "We don't have enough shards for the next door. Let's head back to camp."

As they turned to leave a hand on Kaim's arm brought him back around to find Dorian holding his wrist, waiting until the others were out of earshot.

"Did it have any effect on the mark?" His voice was pitched to just above a whisper, his eyes dropping to Kaim's hand as he turned it gently palm up between his own.

Kaim gave him a gentle smile. "Not that I can feel. It has not slowed the ascent of the magic if that's what you mean. Not that is noticeable, at any rate."

Dorian hummed in noncommittal disappointment, considering the leather covered palm cradled in his hands. "I am not giving up, _Amatus_. I will find a cure," he promised.

\---

"You know," Kaim shouted, "I hate the cold. I really do. My hands numb easily, my skin feels chapped, and don't even bring up the static with my poor hair. But I now have a request, Dorian."

The only forthcoming response was an annoyed grunt from behind him.

"Remind me of this moment next time I complain of the cold."

The small party was lashed to one another by the belts, in single file, pushing their way valiantly through the sandstorm. Less valiantly and more the result of poor planning and a lack of knowledge of the surrounding area.

Kaim adjusted the scarf over his face, feeling sand grit between his teeth, and swore that if he ever returned to the Western Approach it would be too soon. Unless he'd gotten completely turned around, there was supposed to be a cave nearby...

There!

Struggling against the whipping gales of sand he led them forward, headed for the relative sanctuary of the cave, hoping it was an uninhabited one.

Which of course it wasn't.

They had just barely stumbled within the mouth when the spiders beset them. Sera and Kaim, having superior vision threw themselves into the attack. Unfortunately they forgot the entire group was still tied together. Poor Dorian was between them with Blackwall bringing up the rear and the mage was quite literally ripped from his feet by the two leaping elves.

For long moments chaos reigned. Sera ran out of rope mid leap and the force of Dorian's weight pulled her back, yanking her bow and arrow from her fingers, and sending her flopping to the ground like a rag doll. Kaim hit the end of his tether in the same moment, his crouched sprint halted with a violent yank at his hips, snatching him right off his feet. The force of both elves reaching the end of their slack and yanking against the two opposite ties to Dorian's belt tore his feet right out from beneath him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.

Both elves collided backward with the flailing mage, tangling cloth, belts, and weapons. Blackwall shook his head and neatly sliced through the tether at his waist before stepping over the struggling pile of party members.

"Once you ladies are done napping I could use some assistance with the spiders," he drawled, striding past them and meeting the creepy crawlers before they attacked his downed companions.

Dorian lay there staring at the darkened rock ceiling a moment. "For such brilliant combatants, you two really are a pair of forgetful ninnies."

"Shove off!" Sera made a raspberry sound.

"How could _both_ of you forget you had a mage tied to you?" Dorian's tone was amused exasperation.

"No! Shove. Off. You're sitting on my leg, arse-face!"

"Well, whose fault is that?" He chuckled as he shifted to release her leg, attempting to figure out the mess that was their armor.

\---

Everything was...frozen. Kaim sidestepped a Venatori who’d been knocked into the air by a terror demon, ducking under the foot hanging in midair, his eyes fixed on the rift centrally located on the staircase. It was unnerving to see everything suspended in time. Swords stopped mid swing; blood spatters hung in the air like glistening rubies with terror demons half emerged from the ground.

The rift hung suspended above the stairwell and Kaim circled it in fascinated interest. Shards of light and shifting crystal were equally frozen. He extended his right hand forward to touch one of the spikes.

"It's not completely stopped, merely severely slowed. They are still moving, only minutely." Dorian joined Kaim and they both stared at the rift in amazement. Kaim raised his left hand and held out the anchor to it.

"Kaim, wait. I would-" Dorian's words were interrupted as rift magic flared and Kaim immediately cried out in pain. "Kaim!" Curling around his hand protectively, Kaim collapsed to his knees and Dorian was instantly by his side. The mark snapped and sparked violently, the magic folding back on itself, engulfing his hand in green fire to his wrist.

In frightened desperation Dorian unbuckled and removed Kaim's gloves and wrist wraps, watching dismayed as the veins spread higher, the glowing tendrils wrapping over his wrist and fading into the bottom of his forearm.

Dorian growled. “It’s spreading faster than before. The time magic must have caused feedback that’s forcing the mark’s magic farther along your hand.” He covered Kaim’s palm as the tear opened almost to the heel of his palm, as though to stop the damage.

"Wait, what's happening?" Blackwall demanded, watching Dorian cast several spells on Kaim's wrist, trying to slow the advance of the mark. Sweat stood out along Kaim’s brow as he struggled with the pulses of pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder, his heart skipping a few beats.

"That don't look right," Sera agreed, kneeling next to Kaim and staring at the malevolently glowing veins.

"It's not mine to tell," Dorian snapped, frustration and irritation filling him over his inability to find a solution.

Kaim sighed once he’d regained control of himself. "Every time I use the mark it spreads a little more," he admitted, watching Dorian futilely attempting to stall the mark's upward movement.

"You shite stick! How long?" Sera snapped, glaring at Kaim.

"Since the first rift I closed." Kaim refused to look at any of them.

"Do not feel excluded. He also left me in the dark until only recently. And I had to catch him; he still didn't tell me." Dorian gave Kaim a withering look.

"There's nothing that can be done and spreading word of this will only incite panic and upset. People believe the mark is a religious icon. If they found out it's consuming me it will only undermine the Inquisition's authority." Kaim flexed his palm, wincing at the ache before beginning to wrap the cloth around his wrist, covering the green veins once more.

“I thought you didn’t believe in Andraste or the mark?” Blackwall’s gruff voice was oddly soothing.

“I don’t. But I understand that other people do. And though I may disagree it’s not my place to take that from them.” Kaim glanced up and was startled to find three pairs of adoring eyes trained on him. “Oh cut it out! All of you!”

“Who knew a _slave_ could be capable of such empathy?” Dorian lay a hand on his chest dramatically. “Take that, Mother Giselle.” Kaim snickered at his bitter tone.

“What’s big hat got to do with this?” Sera raised a brow at Dorian.

“You realize she was criticizing you, not me, right?” Kaim leaned back on his hands with a grin.

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, _Amatus_. She was backhandedly criticizing you by attacking me,” he insisted, straightening his robes before rising to his feet.

“Maybe,” Kaim conceded with a widening grin. “Mother Giselle apparently felt Dorian’s influence over me was hurtful to my reputation as Inquisitor,” he informed Blackwall and Sera.

“Well, he is, really.” Sera dropped a hand on each hip, cocking them to the side. “I mean fuzzy caterpillar lip? No account’n for taste, I s’pose.”

“Excuse you! I’ll have you know this is the height of fashion in Tevinter _and_ Orlais!” Dorian fumed.

“Shite I just said.” Sera grinned impishly.

“You don’t think I’d look good with a curly mustache?” Kaim asked, pantomiming curling the ends with his fingers.

“Maybe if we stuck it to ya with paste!” Sera snatched up the end of his ponytail and positioned it across his upper lip in an estimation of a mustache. Blackwall nearly fell over in his hilarity and Kaim swore there was a vein standing out on Dorian’s forehead.

“If you _dare_ use Kaim’s glorious hair in such a distasteful pursuit-” but a chuckle interrupted him and he was unable to maintain his irritated facade. “You really look preposterous with a mustache,” he admitted, snickering down at Kaim.

“Unfortunate. I was going for dashing.” Kaim grinned and Sera relinquished his hair.

“You realize it’s a dangerous pursuit, allowing Sera to touch your hair?” Dorian cocked his head with a smile.

“Nah. I promised Bendy I’d leave ‘im be. Twat’s the only one able to sneak up on me. Liable to do nasty things to me while I’m in Solas’ dreamy wonderland.” She threw her hands high and wiggled her fingers, wobbling her voice through the last few words. “Speakin’ of which. SOMEONE needs an arrow in their arse for this mess. What say we find ‘em and stick ‘em with a few?”

Kaim grinned and allowed Sera to pull him to his feet.

\---

Erimond sneered at Kaim, lifting his hand with a flash of red magic.

The anchor flared and Kaim grunted in pain as he was literally dragged forward, palm outstretched as he collapsed to a knee. Dorian gasped and had to resist flying to Kaim's side, instead readying a spell, eager to defend Kaim if the need arose.

The red magic pulled at the mark, seeping deep into his chest. Kaim gasped at the pain, his arm and body pulled taut toward Erimond as though dragged by a rope on his wrist. It was agonizing, stabbing, twisting, and pulling, seeming to unravel him from the inside out. Erimond’s taunting words fell on deaf ears as Kaim struggled to even take a breath. With great effort Kaim slowly pulled back, fist clenched. The green flames danced brighter, flickering up his forearm. It was no use; on his own he wasn't strong enough.

Deliberately he pulled harder, activating the magic, and for the first time letting himself feel it, allowing it the access it so craved, his bicep flexing and trembling slightly with the effort. He pulled harder until he regained his feet. It pulsed deep into his chest, gripping his lungs and squeezing his heart. For a moment he felt dizzy, but the magic literally anchored him and he felt as though it were a rope, seizing it tightly.

Dorian watched him in concern and intrigue. Clearly there was quite a struggle ensuing within Kaim and he wanted so desperately to assist him, the feeling of helplessness becoming overwhelming.

With a growl and a furious glower Kaim yanked back, as though closing a rift, and Erimond was thrown forward off his feet, landing with a thud in the dirt. The magic broke with a flash and Kaim stepped back with a smug expression.

Dorian caught Kaim flexing his hand subconsciously and knew this was going to be something that bothered him. Other than Corypheus no one had been able to effect the mark. Until now.

With the Grey Warden thralls dead, Kaim discussed their next move with Hawke and Alistair before joining the rest of his group as they made their way wearily back toward their new stronghold.

Dorian quickly fell into step next to Kaim. "Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

Kaim didn't even have to ask what he meant. "I..." He stared down at the anchor as he walked, muddling through this new feeling. "I gave it what it wanted..."

Dorian’s face morphed to an expression of shock and alarm. "What?"

Kaim pushed back his hood and continued staring at his palm. "I...this whole time I've been fighting it, even while using it. The anchor feels like...a seed planted in my palm, and with each use the roots spread and grow. I’ve been resisting it, but this time I gave it what it...wanted?" Kaim shook his head. This was hard to describe for someone who didn't use magic. "It wants to move up into my chest...I think. It wants...me?" He shook his head again. "I can't...describe it. I don't really know what...I mean, can it even want things? That's the only way I can describe how it feels..."

Dorian's eyes held worry. "And you let it have what it _wanted_?"

Kaim nodded distractedly. "All this time I've fought it, pushed it back down into my hand. But when he pulled on it...it paralyzed me. But, somehow I knew...if I let it in...that I'd be strong enough to pull back. Alone neither of us was. So, I stopped pushing back. I expected pain, but it was agonizing, like my chest filled with really warm water...It was a little overwhelming and hard to breathe, but once I regained control of it again it was...easy to break Erimond's hold." His words trailed off and he just stared at the softly flickering flames in his palm.

"Kaim, you idiot,” Dorian chided, gently scooping Kaim’s marked hand between his palms. “Do you think that made it spread higher?”

“Most definitely, and those were extenuating circumstances. I will not do such a thing again.” Something in Kaim’s expression made Dorian narrow his eyes at the elf.

“It feels different, doesn’t it?”

“It does. Like it has...not only traveled higher, but like it has sunk deeper.” Kaim stared at his hand, cradled between Dorian’s two larger ones.

"Is it drawing from you?" Dorian blanched.

"I...yes. But it...it feels like a current. It’s not growing higher, if that’s your concern." Kaim ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, suddenly appearing very tired.

"We'll examine it more closely later on," Dorian tried to sound confident as he pulled Kaim into a hug and kissed his temple.

\---

Whispers echoed loudly around him as he made his way through the tavern. They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, though he ignored the words. Rumor has it the Inquisitor returned to the fade. Did he find Andraste there? What did she tell him? Was he given words of instruction? Encouragement? Only the Inquisitor’s bowed head and steadfastly lowered gaze kept the questions at bay. The incessant buzzing grated on his nerves.

Oh, the Inquisitor had seemed larger than life when he’d emerged from the rift, one person whispered. So in command, so powerful. The mark had flared so brightly when he’d closed it on that horrifying nightmare demon! Kaim’s hair shadowed his face and they all missed the frown pulling at his lips as he climbed the stairs. It had been excruciating, this mark they all worshiped. Soaked in fade magic, in the very place of its intended use it had reacted poorly. The veins had been visible even through the leather, glowing painfully bright, his arm engulfed in flame to midway up his forearm.

But none of them saw that. The mark wasn’t from Andraste, just as he’d thought. None of them would ever know.

Kaim pushed the door open. “Sera.” He caught her fist easily, completely unsurprised that she whirled around and tried to take a swing at his head. There wasn’t any force behind it.

“Never. Again.” Her words were hissed when he was silent. They remained there a moment, his palm holding her fist to the side of his head, Sera breathing hard as though valiantly attempting to control her emotions. Finally she stopped and really looked at him. “Kaim?”

He raised his head and that’s when she noticed the pain, the unshed tears, the raw emotion.

“Kaim.” Her voice faltered as she wrapped him in her arms, slightly unnerved by the feeling of him turning his face into her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist. He was smaller even than her, a few inches shorter and definitely as lean. It was jarring to realize the man all Thedas’ hopes rested on was a waif of an elf. Her fingers stroked his loose hair while he fought a losing battle to maintain his composure.

“I just left him there, Sera.” His words were choked and her arms tightened around him in response. The companions had come through the rift, first her, then Blackwall had forced Dorian through, then come through himself. Long, agonizing moments later the Grey Warden Alistair had staggered through, breathing hard and almost in tears. Time continued to tick by with no sign of Kaim or Hawke. Dorian was just about to storm his way back through when finally there was movement and Kaim had come leaping out as though something nasty were hot on his heels. With a dramatic wave of his hand he’d sealed the rift, leaving Reven Hawke behind.

Kaim had gone to Dorian for support and had received only a lecture. Only after he’d said his piece did he finally ask if Kaim was alright. By that time Kaim had shut down and merely nodded, simply saying it was a disconcerting experience. He hadn’t meant to shut Dorian out like that. At least Sera’s response had been simple, abyss take him-if it hadn’t been for his automatic reflexes he may have just let her hit him, an intellectual argument was the last thing he wanted right now.

“Piss buckets, pretty words of comfort ain’t my thing, Kaim.” She shifted uncomfortably, wracking her brains for something consoling to say.

“If I’d wanted words I’d have gone to Dorian.” Kaim leaned back enough to wipe aggressively at his nose, scrubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. A noisy, tired sigh escaped him as he pulled back and let his hands drop, staring listlessly off to the side.

“I’m not meant for this. I have everyone and their fucking mother telling me I’m this...beloved icon. I don’t even have my own life together; how am I supposed to save all of Thedas?” He plopped down onto the pillows in front of her windows with a heavy sigh, his hands drooping between his knees.

“That’s why,” Sera quipped, dropping down next to him and curling her legs into her chest, hugging them close to her while rocking gently.

“What?” He stopped glaring at his anchor hand to look up at her in confusion.

“Yer one of the little people.” She bumped his shoulder with her own. “You remember. You’ve been stepped on.”

Kaim shuddered involuntarily, the nightmare’s words floating back to him.

_"I can take your nightmares away, Kaim. Those awful memories of rope, and blood, and humiliation. You do not want them anymore, do you? I could relieve that burden. I can make you forget, take that pain."_

“Kaim,” her hand on his arm brought him abruptly from the darkness he was sinking into.

“How can you say that anymore? You only joined me ‘ _because I glow_.’ But it’s not from Andraste, like everyone thought.” His eyes fell once more to his leather coated palm, the glow safely encased within.

“Ya, and I stayed 'cause yer willin’ to soak Josie’s shiny blouse with me.” Her giggle brought Kaim’s head up, a small smile playing at his lips.

“That was fun.”

"It was. And that sucked. It was dark, there was magic, stupid demons, and it sucked. Shite spoutin' son of a mule's arse, but we made it. Piss lickin', dumb fuck...I _hate_ demons! I _hate_ the fade! But the arse-face failed. Mucked with our heads, but we're here, ain't we? That's sumthin'."

Kaim stared at her. That was the oddest inspirational speech he'd ever heard. But somehow it was exactly what he'd needed. Maybe. He was still sorting it through.

"Sera, I-" Blackwall stuck his head in the door. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you two be."

"Nah, we're bitchin' 'bout the stupid fade. Wanna join?" Sera waved him inside with a grin.

"Hah." Blackwall rubbed a hand through his shaggy, dark hair. "That's sort of exactly why I came. I just didn't expect the Inquisitor to be here."

"Blackwall, I'm going to slap you every time you use my title and not my name." Kaim gave him a deadpan look while Blackwall laughed.

"Suit yourself, Kaim." He smiled as he seated himself.

"It's a Fade Support Group!" Sera giggled. "Just missin' Dorian."

"You realize now that you've said his name you've summoned him, right?" Blackwall grinned. "The man is like a mabari when it comes to sniffing out talk of himself."

"Don't ever let _him_ hear you compare him to a mabari," Kaim laughed.

"I'd think it'd be a compliment! Such majestic, stalwart creatures." Blackwall's mischievous smile gave him away.

"And horridly smelly," Kaim laughed.

"Speakin' of mabari, Alistair's reunion with Widget was adorable, yeah?" Sera smiled at the memory. The poor old dog was so sore from the fight at Adamant, but he still waddled his way as best he could to greet Alistair, his wagging butt not doing him any favors.

"A mabari would be fun to own, but Dorian would never abide the smell." Kaim smiled wistfully.

Blackwall's expression grew serious. "How are you holding up, Kaim? That right bastard took quite a shot at you. And getting all your memories back...this can't have been easy on you."

Kaim took a moment to truthfully consider the question. How was he? He was a mess inside. Every time those memories were brought up they tore a little. It hurt but he realized he was coping, better than he ever thought he would. And he finally concluded why, gazing back into the faces of two people genuinely concerned for _him_. Not for what they could get out of him. The thought was humbling and emboldening.

So, the truth was, he _was_ alright. But not because he was coping, or because he'd come to terms with anything. It was because he had these amazing people right here, alongside him, who helped shoulder some of this crushing weight. And Dorian, who carried so much of him. It wasn't fair to him. Kaim almost wished he could let Dorian go. He deserved so much better.

"I will be okay," he answered honestly. And this time he truly believed it.

"What about you, Sera?" Blackwall leaned an elbow on his knee and rested his palm on the other, turning slightly to consider her.

"Shite-lickin', arse bucket!" Sera swore, shifting around nervously. "Gonna have nightmares fer weeks."

Blackwall chuckled. "Agreed."

" _There_ you are!" Dorian poked his head in the door, smiling at Kaim before glancing around. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Get in here, Ser Silky-Bloomers. We're havin' a Fade gripe fest." Sera motioned him in the door.

"Oh, indeed?" Dorian slipped into the small room and planted himself next to Kaim, his arm automatically winding around his slender waist as he leaned close, planting a kiss at his temple.

"You know, you missed your opportunity." Kaim glanced at Dorian sidelong.

"Oh?"

"To make yourself a god for me. Although, I _do_ call you 'Dorian' now, so I suppose it's moot." He grinned.

After a moment’s contemplation Dorian burst out laughing. “That’s right! You told me that one night, that it would take an act of Dumat himself and I said I’d go make myself a god for you.” He chuckled at the memory. Maker, that was so long ago.

"Wot?" Sera glanced between them questioningly.

"Back when I was still Dorian's slave he made valiant attempts to convince me to call him by 'Dorian' instead of 'master.' At first I did it out of habit. Then I continued merely to spite him." Kaim grinned.

"You were a horrible creature. I don't know why I kept you around." Dorian sniffed in faux disdain.

"Like that ass dinnat have nuthin' to do with it," Sera cackled.

"I'll have you know-"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved a hand dismissively. "No hibbity dibbity till Kaim was a free man. He told me."

Dorian stared at Kaim aghast. "You tell her about our _sex_ life?"

Kaim grinned. "I would if she'd listen. She's not interested in _jousting_." Dorian covered his face with his palm, Sera cackled, Blackwall turned two shades of red darker, and Kaim looked rather pleased with himself.

"Less horses, yes. More cheering, definitely," Dorian finally responded. Sera about fell off her perch from laughing and Blackwall actually snorted. "So, Sera. You mentioned our foes in the fade looked like empty voids to you, yes?"

Sera immediately sobered and the color drained a little from her face. "What you gotta bring that up for, ya wanker?" Her expression turned sour.

"Merely a fascinating point. That's not what they looked like to the rest of us. Hawke said he saw spiders. I saw...desire demons." He didn't mention they all wore Kaim's face, like twisted, evil manifestations of his beauty.

"I saw men...with indistinct faces...and they were carrying ropes." Dorian's arm immediately wound around Kaim's shoulders and pulled him close. He smiled faintly and snuggled into the mage's warmth.

"I saw corpses. With the faces of...lost lives that I'm responsible for." Blackwall stared firmly at the ground.

They were all silent for a few long moments.

"Fuck that place!" Sera abruptly stood, a determined look pasted on her features. "I say we cut this touchy feely pish posh out and head to the tavern instead. A drink sounds better than this drivel."

They all heartily agreed and followed the bouncing archer to the main tavern.

\---

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this update took so long, but the light is at the end of the tunnel guys! Thanks for sticking with me so long and for all your amazing support! Your comments seriously give me life! <3 
> 
> Kaim and Dorian experience a few bumps and bruises in the long journey of Kaim's road as Inquisitor, how will the former slave adapt to being in a long-term relationship?

Leliana caught Kaim in the hall as they were leaving the War Room. "Inquisitor, my agents keep an eye on all traffic in and out of Skyhold, and I thought it prudent to inform you that a certain Tevinter mage has been attempting to get his hands on a very specific amulet. Apparently he is running into issues acquiring it." She walked beside him at a sedate pace as she spoke.

Kaim glanced up from the sheaf of paperwork Josephine had left with him. "Oh? What manner of amulet?"

"It has no magical properties that we can confirm, but it appears to hold value amongst Tevinter nobles. It is flat with a diamond shape outline, flat on the top, pointed at the bottom. The front is etched in relief with a pair of twin snakes entwined around a vine of flowers that I believe only grow in Tevinter as I am not familiar with the blossoms. The edges are embossed with complex scrollwork." She paused at the expression of recognition on Kaim's face. "You know it?"

"I have seen it before." Kaim paused to consider the situation for a moment. "Thank you, Leliana. I will take care of this." With that he was gone, leaving the spy master to gaze after him with more understanding than she'd let on.

Shuffling through the ridiculous amount of papers in his hands, Kaim made his way to Dorian's favorite haunt in the library as it was too early for him to be in their room. He found Dorian bent over an ancient tome, squinting at the packed text, scribbling notes as he went.

Kaim quietly set the parchment down and sidled behind his chair, running his fingers along Dorian's neck and up the sides of his face. "You're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep squinting like that," Kaim chided, his fingers gliding up to massage his temples and ease the tense muscles around Dorian's eyes.

"Not a chance with those magnificent fingers on my skin," dorian sighed contentedly as he slumped back in the chair, the tension bleeding away under Kaim's seeking fingertips. "And besides, all men wrinkle with time. Mine will merely be as beautiful as I am." It pleased Dorian when Kaim laughed heartily to that.

"Now as much as I'd love to believe you came here with the express intent of easing my eye strain and building headache, what can I do for you, _Amatus_?" Dorian captured Kaim's anchor hand in his own, cupping it between his palms and kissing the wrapped base of his wrist.

"Your birthright. May I see it?" It was telling that Dorian froze in his ministrations.

"If you are asking that means it is a rhetorical question. And that you know I'm trying to get it back." Dorian sighed.

Kaim took pity on him and circled the chair, kneeling before him in an eerie imitation of the way he sat when he was still a slave. "Dorian, why didn't you tell me?"

"To be fair, I did, I merely wasn't specific." Dorian gave him a rueful smile, his fingers brushing affectionately along Kaim's cheek and into his hair, sweeping it up to tuck it behind one elegantly angled ear.

"The jewelry you said you'd sold," Kaim assumed then shook his head lightly. "Dorian-"

"Do not say it. I know what I did was foolish, but I desperately needed coin, and it was in the wake of father's attack. I was still angry and bitter. I foolishly thought it a waste of metal, that I likely wouldn't need it again. Turns out I'm rather attached to the bloody thing. Ironic, wouldn't you say?" He raised his eyes to Kaim's face to see him gazing back with an expression of exasperated affection.

"We will get it back for you then." Kaim stood with a note of finality to his voice, but Dorian's hand on his forearm stopped him.

" _Amatus_ , no. I lost the amulet. I will get it back. It is my problem, not yours. You have enough on your shoulders with the Inquisition. I will not add to it." The firmness in Dorian's voice and the severity of his expression surprised Kaim.

"Are we not a couple?"

The question took Dorian aback. "What? Well, yes...but I-"

"No 'but's’ then. You are helping me with," he glanced at his anchor palm safely wrapped in leather to hide the glow, "my problem. Therefore I get to help you with yours."

Dorian made a frustrated face. "It is not the same!"

"No, you're right. One's killing me and the other's a family birthright. They aren't the same thing. How astute of you." Kaim's sarcastic tone raised one of Dorian's eyebrows in annoyance.

\---

Kaim stalked away from the sniveling little man practically burning in his skin as he yanked his hood up to cover his head. Dorian’s words had hurt. _Kaffas! I know what you think, and he’s not my friend. He’s… Never mind what he is._  Was Dorian not happy being with him? The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Dorian had become his whole world, the only thing he leaned on, his very strength. If Dorian left him...

“I don’t want to be in your debt. I don’t want to be in anyone’s debt,” Dorian smoldered, interrupting Kaim’s thoughts.

"You're not in my debt! Are we in a relationship or not? Just tell me if random sex is all you want from me. Because if not then you're going to have to accept that I will do things to make you happy. _Whatever I can_ , anything, everything, buy you whatever you want. Because I can do that now."

His back was to Dorian, but something about the way he’d said ‘whatever I can’ brought the mage up short.

"Wait, if he'd had the amulet, would you have killed him for it?" Dorian asked, shock registered on his features.

"Do you want me to lie to you? Or do you want honesty?" he growled, his shoulders set rigidly.

"Kaim-"

"Yes, I thought about it. I'm not sure I would have followed through, but I might have." He turned back to look at Dorian and his eyes glittered dangerously in the shadows of his hood. "I'd do a lot to make you happy." That expression was completely new and somewhat frightening to Dorian. It was dark, angry.

"I don't want you killing people for me!" Dorian said angrily. “And I didn’t want this! I told you I wanted to do this on my own!”

“Dorian, I-”

“I don’t want to discuss it,” Dorian snapped as he turned on his heel and left, leaving Kaim with a cold ball of dread in his gut.

It took some time, but Kaim made a deal with Leliana who was more than happy to play the game the way Kaim wanted. No sniveling little jackass was going to take advantage of his and Dorian’s relationship. If they even still had one after this. His stomach twisted in fear. What if Dorian wanted to break it off? Kaim wasn’t sure what he’d do if Dorian was that angry. The thought of losing him sent jarringly violent thoughts skittering through his head.

Days passed and Dorian remained distant, never once joining Kaim in his bed and he spent all those sleepless nights in fear, his mind playing out every worst case scenario. Dorian didn’t want him. Rage welled in him, suffocated next by despair. It was all his fault. Why hadn’t he listened to Dorian? But he was free now; he could make his own choices, right? But what if those choices pushed Dorian away? How is that still free will? Confusion and frustration warred in his mind, preventing him from even eating properly. Food had no taste, nor any appeal.

Finally the amulet arrived. It was warm between his fingers as Kaim carried it up the stairs toward Dorian’s usual spot, feeling as though he had rocks in his stomach.

"Here’s the amulet." Kaim held out his hand, the metal glinting softly in the golden sunlight streaming in from the window. For a moment Dorian just stared at it. When he finally took it from him his fingers brushed Kaim’s and the elf’s stomach twisted painfully. Dorian didn’t look pleased.

“Now I’m indebted to you. I never wanted this. I told you,” Dorian said unhappily. This was turning out poorly already.

“Dorian, I-I barely know what I’m doing here. I have no experience with relationships, you know this, but I’m pretty sure from what I do know that those in a relationship are allowed to do things for one another!” Kaim threw up his hands in exasperation.

"That’s the problem! Someone intelligent would take advantage of that! Cozy up to the Inquisitor if they could. It'd be foolish not to. He can open doors, get you whatever you want, shower you with gifts and power. That’s what they’ll say. I’m the magister who’s using you. And it’s worse that I’m your former master." Dorian’s expression showed how torn he was over this.. “I don’t care what they think about me. I care what they think about _us_.” Dorian's words brought a hopeful clench to Kaim's chest. So he still wanted to be with him?

"It's not using if I give it freely out of love and affection," he said softly and stepped closer resting his hand on Dorian’s cheek. "It wouldn’t matter even if we weren’t together. People will say awful things because that’s what they do. Nothing is going to stop that. And that won't prevent me from doing what I can to make you happy because that makes me happy."

A vision of Kaim's dark and angry face flitted through Dorian's mind and a frown creased his brow slightly. Kaim's convictions were strong when he set his mind to something, and it was what made him such an effective Inquisitor now that he'd accepted the role. It should have come as no surprise to him that those convictions included him, particularly after everything they'd been through together. He would merely have to be especially careful, lest he give the appearance of seeking advantage from Kaim's position of power. Something about that expression still bothered him greatly though. Kaim's face had been so dark, deadly. It was wholly foreign and somewhat frightening. He shoved the thoughts aside to consider another time.

Dorian sighed. I was an ass at the merchant’s, and I said things that I didn't mean. It’s my speciality.” He backed away a step and bowed. “I apologize. And thank you.” Kaim rolled his eyes at the formality, grabbed Dorian's collar with both hands and pulled him down into a kiss. The intense relief when Dorian kissed him back made him weak in the knees. Dorian’s arms wound around Kaim’s waist and dragged him close, and he almost groaned, having missed the closeness. “I’m going to stop before I say something _syrupy_ , but I won’t forget this…and I will do everything in my power to stop this.” Dorian’s fingers fell to Kaim’s marked hand, still gripping his collar.

“I know you will,” Kaim whispered before leaning in again.

The need for air parted them breathlessly, Dorian having felt starved while not in his presence, and he finally truly looked at Kaim for the first time in a few days and was startled by what he saw. Kaim appeared haggard, dark circles framing his normally glittering, beautiful eyes that were currently dull and subdued. The rich brown color of his skin was paler and dry, and he himself appeared withdrawn.

"Kaim, are you alright?" Concern lilted his voice as he ran his fingers through the silky though admittedly lackluster hair.

"I'm fine-" Kaim started to lie, not wanting to concern Dorian.

"You haven't slept at all have you?" Dorian asked in shock.

A tired sigh escaped Kaim. "Not since returning from Val Royeaux," he admitted, not meeting Dorian's eyes. "Not for lack of trying though."

Dorian's chest clenched painfully. In his former relations this was how you dealt with displeasure for your partner; you denied them your bed. Such a practice had always been harder on Dorian who craved a closer relationship, but it was one he accepted, and one that had been used on him more than once. Habit was difficult to break, and though the separation this time had been excruciating for Dorian, it hadn't occurred to him it might have been worse on Kaim.

Dorian could have kicked himself now, looking down into Kaim's tired face, even as the elf still refused to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you sleep, stupid man?" he said, his voice betraying his emotional state.

"I was afraid you didn't want to be with me anymore, that you were going to leave me-" Kaim's words were halted as Dorian crushed him in a hug. What had he done? This had not been his intent at all, subjecting Kaim to days of mental anguish… Dorian exhaled shakily. He'd been so wrapped up in his own anger that he hadn’t considered how Kaim might be interpreting it.

Without another word he stepped back from Kaim, who stumbled only slightly at the sudden lack of contact, took up the elf's hand in his own and proceeded to drag him down toward the Great Hall.

"Dorian, what-?" Dorian's fingers interlaced with his as they burst through, the mage ignoring all the noble’s judging stares. Kaim's well-being far outweighed any discomfort he might experience through outlandish displays of affection. He pulled Kaim all the way to Josephine's office and slammed the door open dramatically.

"Josephine, dear, Kaim will be unavailable for the rest of the day. If anyone disturbs him I will burn them alive from the inside then reanimate their corpse to use as a cautionary example. Am I understood?" He gave her his best Tevinter noble glare and it was apparently enough to convince Josephine or maybe it was the necromancy threat.

"O-of course, Ser Pavus-" She slowly stood.

"Good." With that he whirled from the room, towing a shell shocked Kaim in his wake by their conjoined hands.

Kaim’s wits finally returned about halfway up the stairs to his quarters. "Dorian, what in the abyss-"

"I have made a grave error, and for that I owe you my sincerest apologies," Dorian said grimly, continuing to yank the smaller man up the stairs. Upon reaching Kaim's room he steered the elf toward the bed.

"Dorian I have things-"

"You will allow me to fix my grievous blunder," Dorian interrupted sharply and Kaim's mouth snapped shut. "You are well aware just how inept I am at relationships as well, with the entire NONE I had while you were in my service," he began as he proceeded to strip the clothes from an unresisting, though unhelpful Kaim. "In Tevinter, when you're upset with your partner you ignore them and deny them your bed. It's really the only recourse you have. Out of habit I fell back on this, not considering the implications, or the fact you aren't versed in the nuances of relationships in Tevinter and might interpret my absence differently."

Task complete, he proceeded to strip himself until they both wore only small clothes, dragging a surprised Kaim into bed.

"It did not occur to me that my refusal to share your bed might actually adversely affect you. It did me, but I was accustomed to,” he paused, “denying myself." He snuggled into the bed and pulled Kaim against him, hugging him close with his arms wrapped around him.

"It was never my intention to make you doubt us, me, or to cause you ill. For that I give you my heartfelt apology and will help you catch up on some of the sleep we've missed."

Kaim eyed his dark skinned chest, waiting a moment to see if Dorian's monologue was complete.

"Dorian?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't burn anyone alive, please."

Dorian chuckled. "That will depend on the poor soul foolish enough to risk my wrath. And besides, you were willing to stab that idiotic sod over my silly amulet."

"That is an entirely different situation-”

“I will not argue the semantics of murdering someone to curry favor with our significant other. Let us simply leave it at ‘they are merely threats’ and move on.” Dorian hugged him close, staring at the ceiling for a few long, silent moments, pleased to once again feel Kaim’s heartbeat warm against his breast.

“And I would apologize for getting the amulet back but I'm really not sorry." Dorian chuckled despite himself and Kaim grinned. "You wouldn't have gotten it back any other way."

Dorian sighed. "I knooooowww," he complained. "I just...hate the idea of that sniveling ankle biter getting his way by using us, using you."

"And that's why I love being friends with Leliana." Kaim grinned.

Dorian glanced down at the top of the ebony head. "What did you do?"

"He asked for a recommendation for admittance, not actual admittance."

"You sly devil, you." Dorian pulled back to look down at his partner.

"Leliana made it look like we'd given a glowing recommendation and that he'd been accepted to the group. They probably wouldn't have taken him regardless but they were more than happy to play along with Leliana's game. Once the amulet was safe in our hands they dropped him like he was plagued."

Dorian smothered Kaim's grin with kisses. "You evil, evil man." Dorian laughed.

"He should have made its return conditional on his acceptance to the group. It's his own fault." His last few words were mumbled against Dorian's lips. "No one uses our relationship for personal gain, or any other reason." The dark look that settled on Kaim's face was smoothed away by kisses.

"You need to sleep now," Dorian murmured fondly against his forehead.

"But I'm not all that tired,"Kaim mumbled, snuggling closer to Dorian's chest.

"Such is obvious," Dorian chuckled. Within moments Kaim's breathing evened out and he was sound asleep. It felt as though a spring that had been wound tightly within him suddenly went slack and Dorian fought back tears. In their separation it was made patently obvious that his life felt so empty without Kaim in it. Not to mention he'd missed wrapping around Kaim's heat at night; the elf was like a furnace and alone in his own bed Dorian had almost frozen to death.

How was he going to survive returning to Tevinter?

Dark thoughts for another day.

\---

The group crested the rise and part of Kaim wished they could have left the other elf back at camp, or have him wait somewhere else…or something. He didn’t like unknowns in combat, though if Bull trusted him, and they seemed to be good friends, then he would just have to believe the Qun converted elf wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“You must wish you were back in Tevinter, mage. No soldiers to guard you here, no slaves to wait on you,” Gatt spat sarcastically.

And _there_ was the stupid. Kaim resisted the urge to sigh.

“It’s the lack of fashion that _really_ strikes fear into my heart.” Leave it to Dorian. Kaim chuckled.

“You know nothing of fear.” Gatt’s voice was dark and Kaim bit back the urge to sarcastically reply with _oh yes, no one could ever possibly know suffering or fear such as you have endured_.

“And do you intend to teach me?” Came the amused reply from Dorian.

“No. You serve the Inquisition, and the Ben-Hassrath wish an alliance. For now, that is enough.” Gatt backed down with a look from Bull.

“Oh good, just the thought of a lowly Qun scout teaching me the meaning of fear set my heart aflutter! The ire of the entire magisterium, having betrayed my own people, my family, and leaving all those wonderful guards and slaves. Oh wait, I didn't own any. Oh well, regardless, earning the hatred of every magister in Tevinter because I _disagreed_ with them, no certainly, I know nothing of fear,” Dorian drawled sarcastically.

“Forward camp up ahead! We can’t let any of them send word of warning!” Gatt forcefully bit out to end the conversation and Dorian rolled his eyes. Clearly the Qunari were uninformed on Kaim’s history.

“There won’t be survivors.” Dorian pulled his staff and twirled it as Kaim slank low on his haunches, daggers glittering in his fingers, before surging forward, headed straight for the camp.

“What’s he doing?” Gatt hissed at Bull.

“Just follow his lead, Gatt.” Bull chuckled, the clips that held his massive greataxe pulling loose as he strode after Kaim.

Kaim used the tall grass and underbrush as cover, his sprinting steps silent as he advanced at blinding speeds toward the camp. At the last moment he leapt high, kicked off the barrier they’d erected and flew right over it, daggers arcing over his head. The first two targets didn’t even have the chance to look up. The third fell before he could get more than a gurgle out of his throat impaled with Kaim’s thrown dagger.

Kaim landed in their midst, a leg sweep bringing down two who thought to flee, his second throwing knife plunging through the neck of the third fleeing scout. The rest of the Venatori warriors stood stock still, frozen in surprise a moment before leaping into action, descending on the assassin in their midst.

The arcing sweep of Bull’s axe neatly clove one in two while Kaim whirled around Bull’s back, neatly severing the carotid of the venatori who’d slipped behind him. Dorian’s spells incinerated his targets from the inside out, and they fell screaming to ashes. Cole appeared out of thin air and sank his daggers deep into the necks of the fleeing guards, effectively silencing them as he stepped to the side, avoiding the spurting fans of crimson that criss crossed from their wounds.

“ _Vashedan_! He fights like a demon, _Hissrad_! Where in the abyss did you find him?” Gatt hadn’t even had the opportunity to touch any of the enemy.

“If you listen to the stories he wasn’t born, he just fell out of the fade and started killing things. Some people claim he’s the spawn of a desire demon and Andraste.” Bull chuckled. He was especially proud of that rumor.

“That would explain a lot, actually,” Dorian quipped. Desire demon indeed. He suppressed a shudder at the memory of those shades in the fade, though he remembered saying as much of Kaim not long before he had been forced to leave Tevinter.

“ _Vishante kaffas_ , Bull! I don’t need you making my reputation worse! I can do that well enough on my own!” Kaim snapped, his laughter lightening the severity.

“Yeah, but you’re not as creative as Varric and me. You should hear some of the shit we’ve got circulating the tavern.” Bull chuckled as Kaim erupted with a stream of obscene Tevene curses.

“That would explain the odd looks I’ve been getting lately,” Kaim grumbled.

“Oh, come now! Some of his actual exploits are so much better!” Dorian insisted gleefully. “Surely you heard about his near death experience with a gaggle of fawning women, yes?”

Kaim glared sourly at Dorian. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Dorian threw his head back in laughter while the group moved on and Bull eyed Kaim in amusement. “No, I hadn’t heard this one! Kaim, you’ve been holding out!”

“They touched my HAIR!” Kaim wailed. “They’re lucky I didn’t kill them!”

“His hair?” Gatt raised a brow.

“Kaim is serious about his hair.” Bull nodded with a grin.

“Who wouldn’t be with a head of silk such as his?” Dorian chuckled.

Kaim obligingly pulled off his hood, revealing the long, shimmering ebony curtains, and with it the rest of his face and pointed ears.

“And he’s an _elf_! You failed to mention THAT in your reports, _Hissrad_!” Gatt complained.

“What? That’s important why?” Bull asked, surprised.

“He’s _Dalish_! Our reports said he was Tevinter, that changes everything about him!”

“How did you _not_ know he was Dalish? Did you just think he was a very small human with dalish tattoos on his face?” Dorian asked perplexed.

“Hey!” Kaim spat indignantly.

“I don’t know Dalish tattoos from fog warrior shit! I may be an elf, but I was a Tevinter slave then served the Qun! I’ve met very few Dalish. How was I to know? Besides, that damn hood covered all but his chin and mouth, and plenty of humans have facial tattoos.” Gatt argued his case.

“I shouldn’t have had to tell the _Ben-Hassrath_ he’s an elf!” Bull said crossly. “They have spies everywhere; they should have known that by now! I knew before I even joined the Inquisition!”

“This Tevinter Dalish is about to leave your offensive and ignorant asses behind in a second if you all don’t shut up!” Kaim snapped and Dorian chuckled. “You,” Kaim pointed at Dorian, “don’t get to laugh! ‘Small human,’ my elven ass!” He stomped away and replaced his hood as the group followed with varying degrees of amusement.

\---

Kaim spotted Solas' approach to the keep from the battlements. He’d been keeping an eye out for the return of the rift mage since they'd arrived at Skyhold. It had worried him when Solas left the party after the death of his friend, but he'd allowed him his time, knowing Solas was a rather private man.

Descending from the battlements with all haste, Kaim met Solas at the gates. Solas looked surprised to see him, but his expression softened at Kaim's inquiry after his well-being. At Solas' behest they turned from the gates and left Skyhold, instead wandering side by side along the worn and overgrown paths around the exterior walls of Skyhold.

In quiet tones, Solas told him of the spirit, its death, and possible subsequent rebirth. Kaim was bundled in a draping shawl and he pulled it more tightly around his form against the pull of the wind, wondering how Solas was able to stand the cold in just that thin tunic.

"Solas, I-I hope you can understand why I couldn't just let you kill those mages. They had no idea what they were doing. Mages are raised to believe spirits and demons alike are inherently evil and capable of being bound to our will. It's a mentality rampant in Tevinter, believe me. But things won't change unless we teach them. Those mages will now spread their new understanding to others and hopefully, in time, the view of spirits will change." Kaim stared off across the picturesque landscape. The mountains were bleak and barren, sparkling in places with newly fallen snow, but his mind was on Tevinter. He listened when Solas talked, and much of what he said about spirits made sense. All of Thedas needed to change, not just Tevinter, but of all the countries, that one needed it the most.

Solas studied him a moment, a contemplative expression creasing his brow. “Interesting. As usual you do not fail to surprise and impress me.”

Kaim’s head snapped around in shock and Solas chuckled lightly at the reaction.

“You are quite the enigma, my friend. The moment I think I have you figured out another facet of your personality shines and I am once more sent back to the drawing board. I made the mistake of believing you stayed my hand because of a moral code, that it would cast a negative pall on your reputation as Inquisitor. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I underestimated the amount of forethought you’d placed in the action. I was caught in the moment, in the emotion. You were considering ramifications for the future, and plotting ways to prevent other spirits from falling prey to the same fate. And for that, you have my humble gratitude. Not many would place value on the life of the spirit as you have.”

“I merely did what I thought was right. Nothing will change unless we try to change it.” Kaim wrapped his shawl more firmly around his shoulders and Solas began steering them back toward the keep entrance.

“A noble notion. It is not apparent whether the message was learned by those mages, but be aware, some will never change, no matter how hard you try. They will stand firm in the path of progress and only by knocking them down will you be allowed to proceed. Change, more often than not, can be a painful thing, for all involved.” Solas had his hands folded at the small of his back, his pace pondering, eyes distant and unseeing, clearly focusing on something past.

Kaim nodded in understanding as they approached the gates, wondering not for the first time, exactly what it was in Solas’ past that brought about such harsh views. Sadly, he knew he was right. Kaim just hoped more were willing to move with the change than stand against it.

\---

The sun was beginning to set and Dorian glanced up from his book. Apparently the war table meeting was going longer than anticipated. He’d expected Kaim back by now. Setting his book aside he shifted on their bed and made to rise when Leliana came bursting up the stairs.

"Dorian! You need to find Kaim!"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I received a report that Kaim got his hands on first. Clan Lavellan is gone," she panted.

"What do you mean gone? They moved?"

"I mean dead. Wiped out."

Dorian stared at her in shock.

"It was a misunderstanding. But Kaim got the report early. I had wanted to give it to you so you could break the news to him gently. But he found it and now he's gone. I can't find him anywhere."

"I know who can find him," Dorian said seriously and set out.

"Cole, where is Kaim?" Dorian asked as he crested the stairs to the tavern attic.

"Ended, empty, eliminated, everything's gone. Oh, Keeper, what have I done? If I can't even save my clan-"

"Cole, where is he?" Dorian seized him by the arms gently.

"Where he always goes when he's sad, the wine cellars."

"Is he sad frequently?" Dorian asked, surprised.

"Fading, filthy, foul, unworthy, used, dirty, damaged, dying, broken, consumed from the inside out. All those lives at Haven lost because of me. I wasn't fast enough. I don't even follow Andraste. Hypocrite. Hawke, I'm so sorry. Did I make the right choice? What if I don't succeed? What if I can't stop Corypheus? So much blood, too much blood-"

Dorian interrupted the flow of words. "Thank you, Cole. I had no idea."

"He hides a lot of pain. Needs to be strong enough for everyone. Don't let him do it alone?" Cole asked and Dorian smiled.

"Never."

With all haste Dorian made his way through the dark, dank halls of the lower keep. The workers had done an admirable job reclaiming the castle, but there were still many holes and plenty of passages still as yet untouched. Kaim was using one of the lower storage rooms he'd found in his explorations as his personal wine cellar to store the absurd amount of stray alcohol bottles he'd happened upon in their travels. That had to be where Cole meant.

Dorian conjured a small magical flame in his palm as he descended the pathways, the light of the outdoors fading away as he delved deeper. Finally he found the correct door and pushed it open, raising his hand high and searching the gloom. A quick glance revealed Kaim curled into a ball between two shelves, his back to the stone, forehead against his knees, hiding his face and a crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. Dorian sighed softly and placed the flame in a nearby sconce before kneeling down before Kaim.

"Kaim," he called softly, though he was positive the elf already knew he was there. "Leliana told me." There was no response.

Dorian scooped the resistant elf from his hiding spot and into his arms, curling to a sitting position with Kaim tucked into his lap. This wasn't what he wanted. Kaim was supposed to come to him with his pain, not hide from him.

Gentle fingers combed through his hair, soothing him. He hugged him close, and he placed kisses along the top of Kaim's head. Words weren't appropriate for the situation, so he remained silent, allowing Kaim his time to grieve.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He burdened Dorian enough. Kaim had wanted to spare him the hassle of dealing with this. It was his problem, not Dorian's. The soft pad of Dorian's thumb ran along the top of his cheekbones, tenderly wiping away the tears and Kaim breathed deeply a few times.

Not wanting to leave Dorian's comforting warmth, he sat up only slightly, scrubbing his face with his sleeve.

"Stop that," Dorian chided and pulled away Kaim's hand. Gentle fingertips smoothed Kaim's face, drying the rest of the tears, soothing his distressed brows until the wrinkles were gone and gliding across his cheekbones. Those eyes he loved so much remained closed and he ran his thumbs softly beneath them, following the elegant curve upward until he palmed his cheeks and laid his forehead against Kaim's, closing his own eyes.

Kaim sat back slightly and opened his eyes, but he stared down at the front of Dorian's robes, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for except making it exceptionally hard to find you. For that you _should_ be sorry," Dorian sniffed haughtily, pleased when Kaim chuckled a little. "You are supposed to bring these things to me, not force me to descend to the depths of the keep in search of you. I am here for you as you are here for me." Dorian chided and Kaim finally looked up at him, his elven eyes glittering eerily in the low torch light, flashing with that flickering glow that happened in little to no light. He exhaled a long sigh. "We both have much to learn about relationships." He brushed Kaim's hair back from his face.

After a moment Kaim leaned in again and allowed Dorian to wrap him in his arms, his forehead resting against the column of Dorian's throat as he basked in the warm, safe feeling he had here.

"So..." Dorian drawled after a moment, "I don't want to stop the cuddling, but it's rather chilly down here. And your room finally has a decently comfortable bed and blankets and such."

Kaim smiled sadly into the silk on his chest. "And here I thought we were having a moment. Besides," he snuggled further into the folds of Dorian’s robes with a small, mischievous smile, “I’m warm enough thanks to you.”

"How fortunate for you," Dorian grumbled and Kaim chuckled.

"How did you find me anyway?" Kaim asked, extracting himself from Dorian and standing, his cheeks and nose still pink from his tears.

"Cole. And then there's this wonderful thing called magical fire."

Kaim shook his head with a smile then helped Dorian to his feet, intertwined their fingers before leading him back through the winding, dank halls. Dorian took over once they got to the Great Hall, dragging Kaim to his rooms instead of allowing him to be swayed into working more that evening.

Once they reached the top of the stairs Dorian surprised Kaim by approaching the bed, dramatically dragging everything off it in one armful and carrying it over in front of the fire. A smile broke on his face as Dorian arranged the pillows and blankets. Task completed he stripped off all his gear until all he had on were pants, then did the same to Kaim. He grabbed a stack of books, and led his lover into the nest he'd created.

They settled in comfortably with Dorian leaning against a stack of pillows, Kaim between his bent knees, leaned back against his chest with a blanket wrapped firmly around them and their feet warmed by the fire. Melancholy began to set in again and Kaim turned his face into Dorian's neck, curling into his warmth. Dorian's arms encircled him and he combed his fingers through his hair.

"Tell me about them?" he asked gently.

Haltingly, Kaim began to tell him about Clan Lavellan, what little there was to tell. Though he’d been with them only a short time they had been kind when they didn’t have to. If anything, taking in an escaped Tevinter slave was a dangerous action. But the Keeper had defended him vehemently, and of course his friendship with Tamsas had bloomed. Once that had happened others befriended him and he’d begun to actually think of the Clan as home. Eventually the stories faded away and Kaim just stared into the flames.

Long after Kaim had fallen asleep,Dorian remained, continuing to hold him. Careful not to wake him, he cradled the elf, lifting him up and placing him on the bed, returning the pillows and blankets and curling around his lover. Kaim turned into his chest with a sleepy sigh and Dorian smiled.

The next morning Kaim awoke slowly and stretched, allowing the sadness of his loss to wash over him, but not break him. It still hurt like he had a hole in his chest, but it was dull now, thanks to Dorian. A glance to his side found his human lover still fast asleep, his handsome face completely serene. It may have sounded eerie, but Kaim loved watching him sleep, had loved it ever since his days in the Pavus household.

Dorian had the weight of all of Tevinter on his shoulders along with the displeasure of his father and family, the loss of everything he'd ever known, and the disdain of nearly everyone he tried to help. To the outside onlooker, Dorian had a quick, charming, and carefree smile. However, Kaim knew the subtle nuances of his expressions. He saw the pain under the smiles, the tired droop of his eyes at the Tevinter insults, the homesickness reflected in them still.

In sleep however, it all smoothed away, replaced by the serene sanctuary of his dreaming mind. Kaim shifted onto his side to better look at him and slowly Dorian's eyes began to open. When he blinked and focused on his face Kaim smiled at him.

"Good morning."

"I have a bone to pick with you." Dorian sounded so serious and Kaim blinked at him a few times, his eyes wide. "I have been informed that your descriptive terms for yourself include filthy, dirty, unworthy, damaged, and broken."

Kaim blinked. "How did-? Oh." He rolled onto his back and covered his face. "Cole."

"Don't change the subject," Dorian said peevishly. "You must realize your worth to me by now.”

"This is not a conversation I wish to have right now. Possibly not ever." Kaim pulled the covers over his head in frustration.

"Unless you plan on doing something with your mouth under there, which I won't allow until after I'm done yelling at you, then hiding under the covers is unwarranted and un-inquisitor-like." He jerked the blankets back off Kaim.

Kaim glowered at him. "I fail to see the relevance or importance of this line of questioning."

"Of course it’s relevant! What happened to you was beyond your control, and you fought against it with everything you had. A lesser man would have-”

“It’s not about a lesser man!” Kaim snapped, making as if to rise only to be stopped by Dorian’s arm around his waist, dragging him back. A frustrated noise escaped him.

Dorian rose up on his hands, propping himself above Kaim and caging him between his arms, forcing him to look up into his face. “You are brilliant, charming, funny, intuitive, and an absolute scoundrel at times.” Kaim snorted at that last comment. “Yes, you are stunningly beautiful, but your face is not why I fell for you. And knowing what happened to you does not change my opinion of you in the least.” Dorian paused. “Scratch that. It does change my opinion of you.” Kaim’s gaze shifted to the side, not wanting to see the disgust in the grey eyes he loved so much. “It makes me realize you are more amazing than I deserve.” Kaim’s eyes were impossibly wide as they flew back to his face and Dorian nodded. “You are unbelievably strong. Everything about you is magnificent; every aspect of you is perfect.”

Kaim surged up and wrapped his arms around Dorian to help hide the moisture welling in his eyes and Dorian shifted his weight, wrapping one arm around Kaim while supported by the other. Gently he lowered them both to the bed and wound the other arm beneath him, holding the trembling elf close.

\---

“Oh, Kaim,” Josephine spoke up, pulling Kaim’s attention from the map of Thedas. “The Winter Palace Ball is in a few weeks and we need to begin dancing lessons for you if you are to be prepared for the attendee’s expectations.”

“Expectations?” Kaim raised one eyebrow.

“Well, to put it delicately, you are an elf. They will expect you to fall on your face. However, I plan to have them all flabbergasted with the quality of your footwork. I am hoping you will pick up the steps easily, seeing as you are a rogue.” Josephine gave him the most adorable smile and Kaim found himself smiling back, if a little in exasperation. Right, he’d never displayed his dancing skills for any of them. A smirk crossed his lips.

“If you’ll oblige me?” Kaim held out his hand to her with a formal bow, his other hand at the small of his back. “It has been a long time since I saw the steps at a ball in Tevinter, but perhaps I can muddle through and you can gauge the amount of work ahead of you?”

“Oh! Well, of course, a capital notion.” Josephine set down her clipboard and circumvented the table, placing her hand in his. Cullen and Leliana sat back to watch, smiling lightly. “Although we have no music.”

“I can bring my lute with me from now on, but today I suppose you will have to make due with silence. I suppose Cullen and I could count out a beat for you if necessary.” Leliana smiled up at the Commander.

“Ah...uh, yes...of course.” Cullen looked decidedly uncomfortable. It appeared the Commander likely needed lessons more than Kaim did.

“What is the latest rage in Orlais right now? I apologize for not keeping up with the newest orchestral frenzy in fashion.” Kaim smiled sardonically. Josephine gave a title, clearly expecting him not to recognize it, but fortunately, he did.

“Oh, but we needn’t attempt something so complex, we can start with a simpler melody. And if you are uncomfortable, then I can lead until you learn the steps.” Her offer was well intentioned, and Kaim resisted the urge to laugh.

“No, no, allow me to muddle through this. It’s the best way to learn, is it not?” He gave her a dashing smile and her cheeks deepened in color.

“Well, yes, I suppose.” They took positions and Leliana hummed out the beginnings of the piece. Josephine squeaked in surprise when Kaim flowed expertly and effortlessly into the first few steps of the dance, pulling her delicately along.

“Now, it’s been a while,” he told her, “so correct my steps if they prove untrue.” His grin widened when Josephine eyed him, finally catching on to the fact she’d been had. Leliana’s jaw had dropped when he first swept Josephine into the dance, so they were now going off the beat of their feet alone, but that hardly bothered Kaim as he kept perfect rhythm in his head, realizing very quickly just how much he’d missed dancing.

It soon became obvious that Kaim was by far the superior dancer, despite Josephine’s plethora of lessons and strict upbringing, and she allowed him to carry her along, benefiting from his grace. As he grew comfortable in the movements once more he added his own flourishes that had Leliana cheering and clapping in delight, beaming as she watched them move about the small space between the door and the war table.

Kaim swept her out dramatically as the dance came to a close, utilizing his most formal bow, gracefully bending over her hand in a manner that almost had Josephine and Leliana green with envy. He grinned mischievously as he straightened.

“Kaim! I knew you enjoyed dancing, but I had no idea!” Josephine was breathless, her face glowing in her delight.

“It was what I was trained for in Tevinter.” He bowed with a smile. “But mainly I was an entertainer rather than a ballroom partner,” he added, his smile only slightly strained.

“An entertainer,” Leliana tapped her lips in contemplation. “I’d be excited to see you perform for us at some point, if you felt inclined to do so. Of course, not if it makes you uncomfortable. I understand if it’s something you did in Tevinter you may not wish to repeat it as it would serve as a reminder.”

“It is sweet of you to think of me, Spymaster, but do not fear. Dancing is still one of my passions, I simply do not have time nor an outlet for it. Perhaps it would be intriguing and enjoyable for all involved if I did a small, private display. Only for those interested, of course.” Inwardly Kaim was beaming. The chance to dance again, even if it was for the few friends he’d made, was an exciting prospect. He’d missed it dearly and practicing in his room when he could was not the same. Perhaps they could get someone to play some music, maybe Leliana would oblige them.

\---


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lengthy time between chapters, but I promise we're coming to a close. I believe there are about two more chapters left. The light is at the end of the tunnel! Thank you so much for your patience and your continued support! You guys are awesome! ^^

It was a nightmare. It was an opportunity. It was awful. It was beautiful, elegant, terrifying. It was a confused rush of feelings that Kaim had difficulty sorting through. On one hand, the very idea terrified him and he wanted to flee as far away as quickly as possible. On the other, he was the Inquisitor and he was respected, even feared in some cases. He was probably laughed at as well. However, that didn’t change that his word now carried weight. He’d seen it, judged people. A large part of him wanted to strut in there head held high, forcing them to notice him, forcing the nobles to admit he, an elf, a former slave, was the Herald of Andraste. For once the title didn’t sting so much. For once it may actually hold an advantage for him. 

Orlesians respected displays of power, excessive elegance, frippery. This was a game he could play and play well. His training bubbled to the surface easily and he found himself actually enjoying getting ready. He’d thought to consult Dorian and Vivienne on his wardrobe but he decided better of it. He knew what he wanted and he’d tailored the outfit himself. Dorian was with Josephine and the rest of the team, receiving their last minute alterations to their uniforms and instructions while he got ready. He was supposed to wear the gaudy and hideous uniform too but he’d won that argument with Josephine. Dorian hadn’t been so lucky.

With trembling hands he piled his hair on his head and clipped the silver and gems in place, swearing when he was done he’d look like something out of Arlathan legend. Not even Solas’ visions of the fade would hold a candle to him. Ebony locks coiled elegantly at the crown of his head, forming a pile that cascaded in silken tendrils around his face and down the back of his neck to rest between his shoulder blades. Shimmering, aquamarine gems that matched his eyes twinkled like stars against the black, connected by sparkling silver chains. Matching earrings and silver strings adorned his ears in swaying extravagance. Next came the makeup. 

Blue and green swirled in soft curves across his eyelids and up to his eyebrows, accentuating the upward sweep of his eyes even more. Kohl darkened and lengthened his lashes, not that they needed it. As he’d decided: extravagance. A touch of glistening gloss was applied to his lips and a small amount of shimmering powder blotted along his vallaslin, making it glow. Rather than downplaying his elven features, he was enhancing them purposefully.

Then the outfit. It was an asymmetrical tunic that layered in dark greens and greys, crafted in a hybrid of Tevinter and elvhen styles with a draping half skirt that fell to his knees on one side, drawing the eye to his thigh high boots. The sleeves fluttered over the tops of his hands and opened in a bell shape that draped elegantly. Delicate silver embroidery decorated the collar and sleeves as well. He’d opted for flat boots since his height had never bothered him. He felt no need to augment it. 

The outfit and decorations were strategic, however. The tunic was thick and doubled as armor with daggers cleverly hidden in the boots. And forget Dorian’s magic, he’d been a slave, he knew how to style hair in such a way that there was no chance of it moving, no matter what the wearer subjected it to. Dorian could keep his glamours. Kaim grinned at his reflection. 

It was time. 

He was to arrive alone after the rest of the Inquisition was in place in order to make an “entrance,” as Leliana said. More the better, he supposed.

He took a deep, cleansing breath before he stepped from the carriage, the gates of Halamshiral looming above him in all their glory. Obstinately he lifted his chin, refusing to be impressed. The Pavus household alone possessed similar grandeur which put him at an advantage. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped off to meet the Duke. 

Kaim strode in like he owned the place, and to be frank, he did. Every eye turned. Eyebrows shot into hairlines as mouths dropped open in stunned disbelief, and Dorian had to pick his jaw up off the floor. Immediately on arriving they had spread throughout the crowd, strategically placing themselves around the ballroom. Dorian leaned on a rail languidly, appearing comfortable even in the stuffy, abhorrent monstrosity he was wearing. He really needed to give Josephine a few tips next time.

Then Kaim had been announced at the hand of the Duke, a fact which irked Dorian no little amount. He swallowed his distaste and almost fell over at the sight of Kaim. Though his appearance was certainly visually orgasmic, it was his bearing that immediately captivated him. Not a movement was wasted. He didn’t walk so much as glide with each step, all grace with his shoulders rolled back, head high, showcasing his long elegant neck. Everything about him screamed _elven and proud_. His ears were accentuated by the style of his hair and his jewelry. His eyes appeared larger and more angled than usual, due of course to the makeup. But every movement was purposeful. Kaim was making a statement. Not even the tilt of his head acknowledged the whispers, the gossip, the appreciative sounds. His eyes were solely trained on the Empress herself; everyone else was beneath his notice. 

Whispers swept the floor like wildfire, murmurs of approval and malcontent in equal measure. How beautiful! How _dare_ he? Captivating! _Who does he think he is?_ How elegant! An _elf_? 

With eager eyes, Dorian watched Kaim speak to the Empress and then turn to mingle with the other guests. The distance between them was too great to hear the conversation, but body language told him more than words could. Kaim met compliments, approval, disdain and outright scorn, but each was dealt with as though he were dancing, graceful and aloof, leaving more than one infuriated or infatuated patron in his wake. If he hadn’t enough incentive to leave, watching these vipers paw after him was the last push he needed to abandon his position on the railing and take up his assigned post in the gardens. The air would do him good regardless. He palmed two wine glasses off the tray of a passing servant elf, ignoring the expression of disdain turned in his direction as he dumped the contents of one into the other, effectively doubling the wine. Replacing the empty glass on the tray he made his way outside, with whispers of “evil Tevinter magister” floating behind him. Ignorant sods.

\---

They were ready to head into the servant’s quarters to continue their investigation and Kaim moved effortlessly through the crowds to where his team members were posted, smoothly providing them updates before moving on, appearing to be discussing no more than innocent trivialities. Honestly, Leliana was extremely impressed. If Kaim so desired, he’d be one of the deadliest participants in the Game in centuries. His background as a slave made him perfectly suited to the task. He knew exactly how to move, what to say, and every gesture or flicker of his eyes was misdirection intended to mask his true motivations. Or were they? That was the beauty of it. Even innocent actions were veiled, leaving the observer guessing. His beauty was off putting and yet another distraction. The spymaster found she was actually a touch jealous. A smile lit her face as Kaim disappeared into the gardens to find Dorian.

It was impossible to miss his approach and Dorian turned as he drew near, a fond smile on his features. “ _Amatus-_ ” His greeting was interrupted by Kaim, who stepped right up to him, closer than propriety allowed. One hand slipped gracefully up his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a chaste but demanding kiss. Rather loud murmurs erupted around them and Dorian had to resist laughing against Kaim’s mouth, allowing the Inquisitor his display. It was yet another play. What better way to distract those around than giving them delicious fodder for gossip? It grated a little that Kaim would use their relationship so, yet at the same time warmth flooded his chest that Kaim was willing to showcase their love for one another so openly, leaving him feeling conflicted.

“I’m sorry,” Kaim whispered as they parted, pausing briefly nose to nose, allowing his true affections to show through in his sparkling aquamarine eyes. He didn’t like it either. Good. Somehow that made it infinitely better. “Servant’s quarters. Ten minutes.” He pulled back slightly, raising his voice enough for those close by to hear. “Tonight, _Vhenan_. You look good enough to eat.”

With that he turned and floated from the gardens, every eye following his movement until he was gone. They turned at once to settle on Dorian and the whispers flew once more. An amused chuckle escaped Dorian as he leaned languidly on a pillar, swirling the blood red wine in his glass in feigned ignorance of the attentions around him. It should have come as no surprise to him, but Kaim’s favor for him turned to his advantage. Many of the whispered “evil ‘Vint” slurs were replaced by cautious interest. If the Inquisitor found him appealing then they might too. 

Vipers. All of them. 

With all the attention, slipping away wasn’t easy but Dorian hadn’t negotiated high society gatherings his entire life for nothing. Despite the warning of ten minutes, he waited only long enough to not rouse suspicion before lazily making his way through the palace toward the designated meeting place. He stopped at the buffet table, as well as at Cullen’s post, which was swarmed by court members with all sorts of ill intentions. He spoke with several patrons, a few Inquisition members and savored another glass of wine. Why not? It wouldn’t impair his judgement, much. Finding himself alone, he finally walked down the stairs to the servant’s quarters, untying his sash as he went. 

The rest of the members were already there, joined soon after by Kaim whose demeanor changed immediately. His shoulders rolled lax, his posture loosening as the stiffness of back melted away, his chin dropping to a more relaxed level. He was in combat mode. 

“Had I not seen it happen myself I’d have called you crazy. How do you do that? You’re an entirely different person when you’re here with us than you are out there with the nobles.” Blackwall strapped on his shield and his sword belt. 

“I’ve lived almost my entire life around nobles and high society. I know how to act and what is considered appropriate. Add that to my slave training and, well-” Kaim shrugged inelegantly.

“What you mean?” Sera quirked an eyebrow as she slid her quiver over her shoulder. 

“I slip into roles. It’s what we’re trained to do. I can stare at a wall for hours on end and not flinch, no matter what happens. We’re conditioned to obey our master’s every wish, no matter how absurd the request. I’m simply carrying over that mental fortitude here to use to my advantage.” Kaim slipped his daggers from his boots. 

“Bugger off! You can’t stare fer hours! ‘Specially if I poked at ya.” Sera giggled.

Kaim gave her a quirked smile then stood stock still, his face a mask of blankness, staring somewhere between himself and the wall. A giggle bubbled out of Sera and she poked him in the side. Nothing. It began to freak her out when she continued to attempt to elicit a response from Kaim and absolutely nothing was forthcoming. 

“As amusing as this is, we have Venatori to murder, so let us put a stop to this absurd game. Yes, he’s able to remain like this for hours on end, trust me. He did it in my household at times. Case in point though, he’s very sensitive behind his ears.” Dorian stooped to press his lips behind Kaim’s ear, his tongue snaking out to trace the shell near his head. Again, nothing. 

“See? Now let us get going, Kaim! Cut it out!” Dorian gave him a stern look and Kaim finally relaxed. 

“That wasn’t nice!” Kaim hissed, a heavy flush dancing across his cheekbones and up his ears as he adjusted his waistband and crotch to allow a little more room. Sera made retching noises and fell over while Blackwall glanced away with a heavy blush. Dorian just cackled gleefully. 

“It’s your fault. I had more than enough of that behavior in Tevinter, thank you very much. I’ll be pleased to never see you do that again. Now, shall we?” Dorian bowed with a sweeping hand and Kaim glared at him, kissed him lightly, then stormed past. Dorian’s chuckles pressed to his back.

It surprised them that the Venatori were such a pervasive and murderous presence in the Servant’s Quarters, brazenly killing everyone within. Did they not think someone would find out? They were entirely sloppy in their attempts to pin the deaths on the Duke, not at all how Kaim would have gone about doing it. Who was in charge of these people? 

From atop a nearby balcony, a new threat emerged dressed in a gaily colored harlequin costume, wielding daggers, and was almost as light of foot as Kaim. Clearly they were a lieutenant but not the one in charge. A predatory grin crawled over Kaim’s lips as he split off from the rest of the party, dashing to meet the newcomer. 

They clashed with the high pitched whine of steel sharp enough to slice the edge of paper like it was soft churned butter, settling immediately into a dance that was as beautiful as it was deadly. Dorian finished with the mage he was incinerating, watching the two a moment in silent alarm. It was impossible to assist Kaim without running the risk of hitting him. 

The two men moved in what appeared to be choreographed unison, their daggers flashing in the light, sweeping over and under, their steel flowing like water around and through, all grace and precision. Their footwork was a thing of beauty as their bodies twisted with spins and kicks, flipping, bending, their hands impossibly fast and so close they brushed. Kaim's face was a mix of concentration and glee. Dorian had never witnessed Kaim fight an opponent of nearly equal skill and he'd known Kaim was fast, but this display of physical prowess was humbling to behold. 

Hands that held him tenderly, that touched him so gently were capable of killing with such precision. He’d never see it coming. Not that Kaim ever would, but seeing first hand what he was capable of was jarring. 

The harlequin vaulted into a backflip, putting some distance between them. He eyed Kaim with a snarl. “Rivain,” was all he said before he took off in a dead sprint, bolting inside the building. Unwilling to let him escape, Kaim leapt to the chase and both men were swallowed by the shadows of the interior. 

“Kaim! Wait!” The group finished mopping up the Venatori and hurriedly followed. They arrived in the dining hall in time to see the harlequin leap onto the table then turn back to reengage. Kaim didn't bother stopping his momentum. Instead he used it to spring off a chair cushion, flipping over his adversary’s head, slashing down with both daggers as he flew past and landed on the table behind him. The harlequin barely dodged the blow, spinning to meet Kaim's landing attack. 

They traversed the length of the table, dinnerware and crystal scattering before their boots. It was give and take of ground, their lightning quick dance continuing. Finally, Kaim managed to reverse his spin, a move Dorian had seen him use while dancing, and plunge his dagger deep into the harlequin’s throat. 

Blood gushed in a crimson fountain and Kaim danced nimbly away to avoid it, allowing the body to crash to the table, knocking flatware and silver to the floor. Dorian finally approached Kaim who still stood on the table, his chest heaving as he bent to clean his dagger on the dead man's colorful costume. There was something in his eyes, his whole demeanor truthfully, that revealed something Dorian hadn’t been privy to, that he was aware. Pure, unadulterated glee lit Kaim’s face, sparkling in his eyes much like his expression after an adrenaline high. That fight had awakened something in Kaim, something Dorian hadn’t realized was lying dormant. Kaim had enjoyed himself. The thoughts itched at his mind while Kaim crouched to clean his daggers. Dorian pushed them aside for another time.

“Ugh, you brutish sod! That’s finely polished mahogany! And all that musical tinkling of glass breaking? That was priceless crystal you so nonchalantly kicked over with your filthy boots.” Dorian crossed his arms, amusement playing over his face as he approached the table, delicately skirting the pools of blood and the rivulets pattering to the stone floor.

Kaim rose smoothly to his feet and stared down at Dorian blankly, sheathing his daggers. Without a word or a change of expression he lifted his foot, placed his toe gracefully on the mouth of the matching crystal decanter, and pushed. The glimmering container slid smoothly off the table, shattering magnificently against the stone floor in a shower of rainbow prisms and amber fluid.

Dorian watched it in amused detachment, stepping lightly to the side to avoid shards. “Centuries of priceless pieces.” He clucked his tongue in disappointment.

“Stuffy, pompous arse-faces with their precious little plates.” Sera picked one up. It was an elegant piece with a sunset painted in the dish with gold trim. Unimpressed she threw it over her shoulder, listening to it shatter behind her. “What makes it priceless? Because some jackoff who stepped on everyone ‘round him killed thousands in a war once jacked off in it?”

“Does that make him doubly a ‘jackoff’ then?” Blackwall cackled, flopping into an overstuffed chair, his shield digging grooves into it, though he paid that no mind. 

Sera giggled. “Big tush with a tiny winkey with sumthin’ ta prove.” 

Kaim laughed lightly at their antics. “Shattered priceless relics aside, let's get moving. I think I heard something upstairs.” 

\---

The party listened with only half an ear while the spy leader of the elves, Briala, approached. Dorian watched with a smile as Sera plucked flowers from the curling vines that wound their way up the balcony and railing and dotted the elegant stone nearly to the roof. Each flower was carefully and lovingly woven into Blackwall’s beard, who acted like absolutely nothing was happening, drawing a snicker from Dorian. 

“Inquisitor Lavellan, slumming in the servant’s quarters with the rest of your people for once?”

The comment brought Dorian's head up in disdain, thinking to defend Kaim's honor, but his stance of arms crossed over his chest and shoulders back stopped Dorian. He looked taller than his meager 5’4” height. 

“Ah, no, you are correct, Briala. I _am_ unaccustomed to the servant’s quarters. These are so much nicer than the slave quarters I was forced to live in. While I was a slave. In the Imperium. From childhood until about sixteen. But do please, go on. Tell me all about how I know nothing of the hardship of elves and their poor treatment.” The expression he leveled on her was scathingly sarcastic and Briala eyed him for a moment, as though to ascertain his level of honesty before morphing to one of interest. 

“The accounts of your past are jumbled and fantastic. Even for my spies the truth has been difficult to separate from the fantasy. As an example of extremes I do not believe you were born of the fade by Andraste and a desire demon.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

Kaim's palm smacked his face in incredulity as he sighed loudly. “I'm going to kill Bull for that one.” He recovered and gazed at her dispassionately. “No. I was born in Rivain, raised in a dance school and sold to Tevinter. Eventually assisted in escaping and joined Clan Lavellan. Nothing quite as fantastical as the gossip claims.” 

“Says the man with a magic hole in his palm that can manipulate fade rifts with the flick of his wrist.” Briala gave him a knowing smile and he shrugged, rolling his eyes a little. 

“Point conceded.” 

For a few moments more they spoke of her ability to aid him and the Inquisition before she leapt from the balcony and disappeared. Dorian silently drew alongside Kaim as he stood there, staring at the space she'd vacated, thinking over her words.

“You've made a decision, haven't you?” Dorian considered his perfectly manicured nails as Kaim's head came up, studying him in surprise. His surprise was not that Dorian made the suggestion but that he realized Dorian was right. There wasn't even any contest in his mind. Her plight spoke to him on a level that was deeply personal and intimate. All he felt for Celine and Gaspard was resentment. He saw in them the same attitudes and flawed logic that was destroying the Imperium from the inside out and he knew he'd hate himself if he ensured either sat on the throne.

\---

Empress Celine was safe, Gaspard was blackmailed and faded into obscurity, and Briala was the puppeteer, which hopefully meant a brighter future for the elves of Orlais. And Kaim had to admit this was by far the worst party he'd ever had to attend, even though every single other one had been in Tevinter and he'd stood virtually motionless against a wall the entire time. Or he'd been the entertainment. That was almost preferable to deciding the fate of an entire nation.

It was late and the stars were bright from Kaim's view on the balcony, his back to the gold light of the ballroom. Warm arms wound around his waist and he smiled, pressing back into the firm security of Dorian's chest. 

“How deliciously dramatic, the heroic Inquisitor contemplating his mighty deeds in solemn and stoic silence, alone amongst the glittering stars. And his dashingly handsome consort joins him to claim his promised dance.” Dorian spoke gently against the soft hairs of Kaim's neck behind his ear, pleased at the small shiver that elicited. 

“Consort, is it? How daring of you, Ser Pavus.” He turned his head and smiled up at Dorian, allowing him to pull him backward as the next set began, cupping his hand elegantly and spinning him. 

“This ball has everything, what's not to be delighted about? Expensive wines, delightful yet paltry food, conspiring company, dead bodies, pools of blood, an assassination plot, and delicious drama featuring the beautiful, exiled elven prince and his dastardly Tevinter lover.” The music swept them away in its rhythm, their movements easy and elegant, appearing perfectly choreographed to those fortunate enough to catch a glimpse. 

“Exiled elven prince, you say?” Kaim threw his head back in laughter as Dorian dipped him and for a moment Dorian couldn't breathe. The smile on Kaim's face brought it a natural glow, enhanced by the gold light of the ballroom and the silver of the moon as they warred in contrast on his dark skin, the gems and silver twinkling like stars against the black silk of his hair. 

“Indeed. My favorite of all the rumors circulating the event concerning you. Apparently I'll need to watch my back since there are many who are interested in stealing you away.” Graceful steps led them in a circle around one another, palms touching. “There was even an ancient dowager with several daughters looking for you. I told her you'd already left.” 

A self-satisfied expression flitted across his features and Kaim laughed delightfully at his antics. “And pray tell, what reward does my heroic rescuer desire of me?” The music wound around them, drawing them in, their bodies pressed close as they turned in place. Kaim pushed up on the balls of his feet, spinning in Dorian's arms with a dancer’s grace so his back was flush with Dorian's front. 

“The pleasure of basking in your company, of course,” Dorian murmured against the shell of Kaim's ear, pleased at the soft sound he made in return. 

“Consider me seduced, brave Consort.” His head tipped back to look up at Dorian, his gem like eyes sparkling from beneath a fan of dark lashes, his lips parted enticingly, awaiting a kiss. Dorian was only too happy to oblige, dipping his head to capture their petal softness, drinking deeply even if it remained chaste. Better ones were to come later. And come they would, Dorian thought, his body nearly vibrating with anticipation. 

Murmurs from every shadow erupted around them as they parted and Dorian led him elegantly by one hand back to the ballroom. The location mattered little. They knew wherever the Inquisitor was they were the center of attention. They simply had to navigate the remainder of the evening then adjourn to the private rooms they’d been provided for the evening.

\---

Kaim sighed tiredly as the door shut behind them with a resounding thud, the weight of it surprising him. They had to be extremely solid in construction for such a booming sound. It was more spacious than either of them required, over the top extravagance, with gold gilding almost every surface. It glittered in the firelight, gaudy in the extreme. The bed was massive and would would easily sleep four grown men of Dorian’s size comfortably without even touching one another. Kaim was almost afraid he’d get lost in it. For a brief moment he considered making a tent out of the massive blanket and a smile flitted across his face as he paced further into the room, his hands falling to his collar, intent on removing the fancy clothing.

“Oh no you don’t.” Dorian intercepted Kaim, removing the cloth from his unresistant fingers and intertwining his with Kaim’s, dragging him slowly toward the bed with a mischievous smile dancing along his lips. “You look like something from _elvhen_ legend and I would be remiss in not demanding your presence in my bed while you look like a god.” He pulled Kaim into a lazy kiss, bending his neck to accommodate his shorter height. 

“I don’t always look like a god then?” Kaim teased when their lips parted, causing Dorian to laugh. It was cut short however, when Kaim shoved Dorian back, sending him sprawling onto the bed. With slow, deliberate movements he removed his thigh high boots, unclipped all the belts, then peeled down his leggings, leaving him in just the draping, asymmetrical tunic which cut high on his right hip and draped down to his left knee. The result was he remained covered but did not hide his arousal well. Dorian licked his lips as he watched Kaim unclasp the first few hooks of his tunic, exposing the tops of his collarbones and shoulders before he climbed onto the bed on all fours, taking his time crawling over Dorian’s supine body.

Each of Dorian’s hands were swatted away, forcing him to settle them on Kaim’s thighs, just above his knees while Kaim undid the buttons to Dorian’s uniform, inch by inch revealing his dark, silken skin. With each button Kaim leaned in, kissing the newly exposed skin, working his way along Dorian’s chest, pleased at the increasing heaving with each intake of breath. Instead of removing the garment on reaching his waist, he merely undid the sash then continued his journey, leaving the tunic open and the sash laying loose beneath him. When Kaim arrived at the lacing of his pants he moved torturously slow, carefully avoiding the very obvious, straining erection concealed by the fabric.

To Dorian’s surprise, Kaim simply opened the pants to the extent they were able, allowing his penis to lay free across his lower abs, but leaving the pants pulled snugly up on his hips. For all intents and purposes they were still mostly clothed. Kaim shifted his knees, moving his hips higher on Dorian’s body until he lowered himself to press against Dorian’s throbbing cock, causing him to groan, his fingers tightening on Kaim’s thighs. His thighs spread around Dorian’s hips, bunching the fabric higher on his right, the silk draping rather obscenely over his obvious erection. One hand dropped to stroke along the cloth overtop it, pleased as Dorian’s eyes greedily followed the movement. 

“Ask,” Kaim whispered, smiling down at Dorian with a beautifully teasing expression.

“Please, may I?” Dorian breathed, sighing at Kaim’s nod. His fingers slipped beneath the tunic, tracing the underside of his penis with a whisper of a touch before cupping his balls firmly and stroking. Kaim moaned and his head fell back slightly, his hips bucking as Dorian’s hand slipped upward and gripped his cock in his palm, remaining still while Kaim rutted his hips into his hand, clearly wanting the more active role. 

After a few moments Kaim reached to the bedside table and retrieved a vial. Tenderly, he took up Dorian’s other hand, sensuously spreading the oily contents over his fingers. Satisfied he was coated thoroughly Kaim guided his hand down between his thighs where he lifted his hips to give him room, still thrusting into Dorian’s willing palm as he did so. Dorian took over, swirling his fingers at Kaim’s entrance, watching his body rocking gently above him and ignoring his own throbbing erection in favor of treating Kaim how he deserved. Moments later Kaim pressed down. Dorian obliged by separating out a finger and penetrating him, nearly losing himself as Kaim’s body arched with a loud moan, immediately setting a rolling rhythm. Kaim thrust back, forcing Dorian’s finger deeper before rutting up, grinding his cock into Dorian’s other hand with mewls of pleasure. It was almost too much for Dorian to take, watching Kaim pleasure himself so thoroughly using him.

On the next thrust Dorian added a second finger, biting his lip when Kaim ground down on them, moaning loudly. He leaned back slightly, anchoring his hands on Dorian’s thighs to give himself more leverage, rolling his hips with fervor and fucking himself with Dorian’s hands. 

Both their outfits would be ruined after this, Dorian thought, seeing Kaim’s precome run over the top of his hand and onto his chest, also feeling his own soaking into the side of his tunic where it lay open. He couldn’t even bring himself to care as he watched Kaim move above him. 

“A third,” Kaim breathed, his chest heaving, his words morphing into a moan as Dorian complied, slipping a third finger inside him on the next thrust. With each roll of his hips Dorian curled his fingers, stroking that spot within him that bowed his spine and sent stars shooting behind his eyelids, dragging hoarse moans from his slender throat. 

Slowing his movements, Kaim slipped a hand beneath him and liberally spread oil on Dorian's throbbing cock, choking a moan from the man between his thighs. Gently, Kaim removed Dorian's fingers, positioned him at his entrance, then began to sink down. 

His head fell back with a sigh of pure pleasure, feeling his muscles give way for the hardness filling him, pushing the breath from his lungs as searing heat built in his core, a match for the warmth pressing within him. Every time they coupled, their bodies twined intimately, Kaim could feel the ache of the past decade melt away along with his higher cognitive faculties, until he felt like putty in Dorian's hands. 

Dual moans sang through the air when Kaim's soft cheeks finally pressed to Dorian's hips, resting a moment as his body adjusted to accept the hard length. Before Dorian could fully collect his scattered mind Kaim began to rock his hips. Unable to help himself, Dorian’s hand tightened around Kaim’s cock and he groaned, watching Kaim repeatedly impale himself on his dick while rutting into his hand and crying out at Dorian’s touch.

It wasn't long before it pushed Kaim over the edge, coming with a cry of Dorian's name, his whole body spasming as he coated Dorian's front with his passion, massaging Dorian with each tightening of his muscles. Dorian watched him with glittering eyes, soaking in his expression of ecstasy, the pure erotic abandonment of being lost in his orgasm. When he'd regained his senses and breath Kaim leaned down, Dorian's rock hard erection holding him in place. 

“Fuck me till you come,” he whispered in Dorian's ear before nibbling it gently. 

Dorian groaned at his words, gripping his hips firmly, , holding him in place as he rolled them, putting Kaim on the bottom. He seized both of Kaim's hands, interlaced their fingers above his head, pressed them into the bed, then picked up a punishing pace, literally pounding into his lover. Kaim cried out at the almost too sensitive friction inside him, bending his knees higher, allowing Dorian to push deeper, his toes curling in pleasure on the cusp of pain, the sensations becoming too much.. 

He came with a sharp shout of Kaim's name, filling him with searing heat and bringing Kaim to climax once again. Both men were sweating through their clothing, visible skin glistening and chests heaving. Not even bothering to pull out, Dorian simply wrapped around Kaim, holding him close. 

“You know,” Kaim whispered against his hair, “they have a magnificent bath in the other room.” 

“What are we waiting for then?” Dorian scooted backwards off the bed, dragging a chuckling Kaim with him before scooping him up and carrying him to the bathroom. 

\---

Everyone returned to Skyhold completely exhausted and it was silently agreed upon that the company would wait a few days before setting out once again. Besides, there was the aftermath of the ball to deal with, the political ramifications and the newly increased fame. The poor quartermaster was swamped, though he seemed to be enjoying it.

Dorian took the opportunity to write some heavily overdue letters while Kaim flexed his feet, stepping gracefully through several dancer’s exercises. Not that he was getting a whole lot done, distracted as he was by watching Kaim’s sleek and powerful legs. _Maker_ he had missed that. Watching Kaim brought him back to a simpler time, albeit one in which Kaim was property, but he missed the days of nothing more pressing to do than study magic together. The leather wrapping Kaim’s hand and half his forearm brought a frown to his face. Their research had borne absolutely no fruit. There was simply nothing in Thedas even remotely like the magic slowly killing Kaim from the inside out. He tried to hide it but Dorian saw the pain it caused him, the sleepless nights, the worry and frustration.

A soft knock at the door brought Dorian out of his contemplation and Kaim grabbed the closest shirt as Solas entered, his posture immaculate, hands folded behind his back. It was one of Dorian’s cotton shirts and it draped over Kaim’s lean form, the wide neck just barely clinging to his shoulders with extra material bunched around his wrists. Now wasn’t that a sexy image?

“Apologies if I am interrupting,” Solas began. “I can return at a better time if you prefer.” 

“Not at all, what did you wish to speak of?” Kaim brushed his ponytail back over his shoulder and followed Solas onto the balcony at his behest. They were now out of earshot, but Dorian watched them none-the-less, eyeing the two in interest. Something he had failed to notice before was that Solas was a giant of an elf. He practically towered over Kaim. His form was bulkier as well. Next to Kaim he almost looked human save for the ears and more delicate facial features. Then again, anyone looked brutish next to Kaim. Solas made him appear waif-like, so slender and refined. It was no wonder he’d been so expensive.

That thought deepened the frown on Dorian’s face. What was he going to do when he returned to Tevinter? Because there wasn’t an option. He could delay all he wished but he could only stave off the inevitable so long. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as his eyes fell to the partially filled parchment before him. Bringing Kaim to Tevinter was out of the question. He was a former slave, an escaped one at that. Yes, Kaim had been paid for and freed but that didn’t change that there would be those incensed at his having escaped and broken the rules, rules they were clinging to with a fervent death grip.

There had to be a solution to this conundrum. Dorian needed to go back to Tevinter and Kaim couldn't go. There must be a way to shorten that distance or make contact easier. It was a problem but he could find a solution. He'd find a way. The ache in his chest at just the thought of leaving Kaim behind told him he wouldn't survive a separation of that magnitude. He'd been the youngest _altus_ in Tevinter; he could puzzle this out before he had to leave. 

He had to.

\---

"Cassandra, have you seen the Inquisitor?" Cassandra looked up from her book to regard the Commander.

"Dorian said he'd found a forgotten library in Skyhold and needed Kaim's help carrying some books," Cassandra replied casually. If Kaim wasn't with Dorian he was usually with Sera or Cole.

"Do you have any idea where in the keep this library is? I need to speak with him." Cullen paged through his reports as he spoke.

"Not specifically but I'm sure we can find it." She stood, leaving her book on the stool.

"Would it be possible to borrow that from you when you're done? I'm dying to know what happens to the guard-captain." He smiled at her surprised look as they walked.

"I had no idea you were a fan too."

"Well, don't tell anyone, it’s not exactly common knowledge and not something the men need to know." He smiled and she returned it with warmth. Reputation was something all of them were keenly aware of.

The two men's progress was fairly easy to follow as this part of keep was in disuse and they left clear tracks in the dust. Well, Dorian left clear tracks.

Cassandra made an inarticulate noise, looking lost in thought as she considered the footprints.

"What?"

"Kaim walks on the balls of his feet. He appears to walk normally but he doesn't. No wonder he's impossible to hear."

Empty, dank passages passed them by until finally muffled voices could be heard ahead. They approached the ancient door and Cassandra raised her hand to push it open, but the tone of their voices stayed her hand.

"Dorian! You said you needed my help carrying books!" Kaim laughed, his voice slightly muffled.

"Oh? Did I forget to mention there were _extracurricular_ activities involved? I need to conduct some _research_ on the Inquisitor," came the drawled reply.

"I'm supposed to be working!" Kaim laughed again followed by some shuffling.

"We are. We’re working so _hard_." It was definitely kisses muffling their words. There was a crash as though a lot of books tumbled to the ground.

"Dorian, stop!" Kaim giggled.

Then Dorian began serenading him.

"Stop!" Kaim laughed harder.

The singing only intensified, growing more extravagant even though it was muffled.

"Dorian, I swear I will-!" The singing stopped with a soft hum and there was a pause. "Ooohhh don't stop." Kaim's voice dropped to a husky tone and both advisors’ faces burned red.

"Did you say stop?" Dorian asked teasingly.

"Stop and I will end you-" A ragged moan interrupted his words and both the eavesdroppers backed away as slowly and quietly as possible, blushing painfully dark.

“I love that I can bend you that far, how far can you actually... _Maker’s breath_ -”

Cassandra and Cullen glanced at one another with eyebrows raised then picked up the pace, retreating back the way they came.

"They're as silly during...intimacy as they are in their travels," Cassandra snorted once they were safely out of earshot. "Why does this not surprise me?"

"I'm not usually one to discuss things like this," Cullen said uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head, "but they seem good together."

"I think they are," Cassandra nodded. "They compliment one another."

\---

“You know, the sand was bad. It was awful. It got everywhere and in everything and I absolutely hated it. If I never step foot in the Western Approach again it'll be too soon. But this?” Kaim gestured wildly around himself, his arm sweeping to take in the thigh deep snow drifts, the wind whipping flakes in small swirling vortexes around them with the sun nearly blinding them as it glinted off the snow. “This is nightmare become reality.” 

In misery, he tucked his hands in his armpits to warm his numb fingers, sneezing as the cold tickled his red tipped nose.

“You're telling me.” Dorian trudged beside him just as miserable, his robes pulled tightly around him in an effort to ward off the freezing air. “And this place is giving me a headache.” He eyed the red lyrium deposits distastefully. 

“Will they be a problem for you?” Kaim sidled close to Dorian, seeking his warmth and snuggling close when Dorian opened his arm to allow him in the draping sleeve. 

“As long as I do not remain close to them for extended periods of time then I will be fine. It is just this...odd, uncomfortable vibrating feeling in my mind.” Dorian shook his head to clear it as they moved further from the malicious, crimson glowing crystals. 

The group was cold, weary and sore when they finally set up camp. Cassandra and Bull sat outside by the fire while Dorian and Kaim attempted to get some sleep within the tent, but the cold seemed to permeate everything. Dorian awoke with a shiver and flipped over miserably to find Kaim sitting up in his bedroll with Dorian’s robes draped around his shoulders, holding his anchor above the latest book he’d brought along.

Kaim’s appearance startled Dorian a moment and he simply stared. The blue of the silk accentuated his coloring, reflecting the green of the anchor even as it highlighted each delicate elven feature. His ebony hair was partly pulled up in braids with plaits pinned at the back of his head, braids and free tendrils alike draping down his neck and back elegantly.

“It never fails to astound me how stunningly beautiful you are,” Dorian commented and Kaim’s large elven eyes snapped to his face in surprise. 

“Beautiful?” Kaim’s lips quirked.

“You are, intensely so, especially wearing robes of a Tevinter _altus_.” Dorian sat up and immediately regretted it, shivering hard and quickly bundling his blankets around him.

“Oh!” Kaim’s brow immediately rose in concern and he removed the robes, throwing them over Dorian’s shoulders.

“No, no! It’s fine-” It was too late though as Kaim had already bundled the frozen mage. After a moment a thought occurred to him and he smiled impishly, seized up his bedroll blanket and piled that on top of Dorian too before slipping under the covers with him. With a smile, Dorian eagerly opened his arms and snuggled back down, pulling Kaim flush against him.

“Shared body heat does wonders for the freezing cold,” Kaim informed him, slinking on top of the mage to lay on his chest, nestling between Dorian’s thighs. Kaim crossed his arms atop Dorian’s chest, resting his chin on his forearms as he gazed down at his lover.

“I’m going to need to confer with Krem upon our return,” Dorian informed him. “We need to have magister robes crafted for you, if only so I can remove them from you and fuck you silly.” He grinned at Kaim’s snort.

“That’s a rather expensive preamble for something we do regularly already.” Kaim chuckled.

“Yes, but you deserve something crafted of silk, even if you’ll hardly ever wear it. And you look positively divine in it, now that I’ve gotten a taste for it.” Dorian grinned.

“If it results in a repeat of our night after saving Orlais, then I’m willing to part with the sovereigns.” Kaim’s smile turned coy. “And talk about delicious irony. From slave to wearing the robes of a magister...in the interest of pleasing my male lover.” They shared a laugh. “I’m sure there are many in the Senate whose hearts might stop at the very idea.” 

Dorian laughed at the thought, sobering slightly on thinking of Tevinter and his eyes fell, looking off to the side as dismay filled him. 

“You cannot hide from me,” Kaim said softly, his fingers caging Dorian’s chin and making him look up at him. “Tell me your thoughts.” 

“I am afraid I will need to return to Tevinter before a solution is found.” Neither of them needed him to expand on that thought or go into detail.

“I will come with you,” Kaim responded, as though it were already decided. 

“ _Amatus_ , you can’t. You are the Inquisitor. Your place is here and Tevinter is the absolute worst place you could go. We can’t risk that-” It completely surprised him when Kaim sat up, the whoosh of cold air swooping across his chest from the blankets pulling back making him shiver almost violently. “Kaim-?”

“I go where you go.” Turquoise burned down at him in the dim light and Dorian blinked a few times at how forcefully Kaim had said it. It’s not that he wasn’t flattered. There was nothing in the world he wanted more. 

“This is not something that needs to be discussed at the moment-” he reached up to pull Kaim against him once more but instead Kaim lurched backward and out of reach. 

“What do you mean? You would return to Tevinter without me? That you had this planned?” The dark look that crossed Kaim’s face left him momentarily speechless. 

“No, _Amatus_ , I am merely worried about the possibility. My research hasn’t been-” 

“When were you going to tell me about these ‘plans’ and ‘possibilities’?” Kaim snapped, crawling out of the bedroll and tossing the blanket back at Dorian. “I thought we were working on this _together_.” 

“Kaim, come back in the blankets. It’s too cold for this-” Once again Dorian grasped for Kaim but he slipped out of reach, throwing on his gear and the wrap that went over to keep him warm while they traveled. “What are you doing? Where are you going? Come back and let me talk to you!” Dorian began crawling out himself, grabbing up his robe.

“Out. For air.” With that Kaim disappeared out of the tent. Dorian haphazardly threw on his robes and scrambled after him.

“Kaim?” He burst out into the frigid air to find Cassandra and Bull staring at him oddly. “Which way did he go?”

“He is not still in there with you?” Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Damn rogue!” Dorian cursed, spinning around, attempting and failing to find a sign of Kaim in the darkness. He sighed as the futility of the situation sank in and he tiredly returned to the tent, hoping to get some rest at least. 

Much later Kaim returned, slipping silently into the bedroll beside a sleeping Dorian. 

\---

The quarries were one of the worst places to have a battle. The passages tended to be narrow, the scaffolding rickety, the ledges unstable due to the mining and there were non-combatants to worry about. When they attacked the templars decided to start killing their captives.

Kaim's face twisted into a snarl as he bodily blocked his charge from the view of the red templar as he rushed him, his daggers flashing in a deadly dance. This particular camp had children. Kaim had a weakness for kids, considering his own awful childhood. He would do almost anything to protect them.

"Cole! Let's get these kids up the cliff!" Kaim shouted over the din. Cole nodded, sheathed his daggers and scooped up the nearest boy, using his spirit teleport ability to whisk him away. Kaim smiled reassuringly at the little girl and turned so she could climb on his back and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Dorian!" Cassandra's cry brought his head up in time to see a stalker materialize from the darkness, sinking its blade into Dorian’s back. The girl screamed.

"DORIAN!" Kaim screamed in horror as he watched the mage stumble, now completely torn between protecting his love or the child. The little girl clinging to him trembled. They hadn’t spoken since last night. On waking Kaim had left the tent, ensuring it was before Dorian awoke. Later the group had been present and Dorian hadn’t wanted to speak in front of them. Kaim’s stomach sank with dread and regret. What a fool he’d been. 

Cassandra leapt to his rescue but the area was narrow and without Kaim and Cole on the battlefield the behemoth's eyes turned on the injured mage leaning on his staff, casting as quickly as spells could tumble from his lips.

Dorian's eyes caught Kaim's as the behemoth moved between them. "Don't you dare, Kaim," he whispered then gazed up at the monstrosity. Fire leapt from his fingertips but still it moved forward. Dorian yanked a pouch from his belt, blowing a light powder that formed a runic circle under the behemoth's feet. It wasn’t quick enough though.

Its massive arm came down and not even his barrier could fully protect him from the severity of the blow. Dorian was thrown far, slamming into the cliff with a pained grunt. He slid to the ground with stars dancing in his vision as he spied Kaim disappearing over the top of the cliff with the little girl.

"Good boy." He smiled despite the warm blood running down the back of his neck and the blinding pain that felt as if it were going to split his head open. The Tevinter's eyes rose as the badly wounded behemoth limped toward him. "You liked that glyph, did you?" he asked as he forced himself to his feet. "Let's see how you like this."

Kaim and Cole had to make several trips to get all the children out of the reach of the templars. The adults were guided to a path to escape on their own. He had to force himself not to watch the battle as he rescued the children or he would have lost all control and flung himself to Dorian's rescue. As it was though, he could hardly breathe because his chest was constricted in fear.

But now that the non-combatants were safe he could help. Kaim leapt down the cliff, snagged a bottle off his belt and dragged his daggers across the opening, coating the blades in a thick poison. The monstrosity was distracted with Dorian, allowing Kaim to sprint up its back, stabbing a dagger into its shoulder blade for purchase and hacking away with the other, causing significant damage to its neck. His movements were frantic, frenzied, not at all having the grace and finesse he typically possessed. He clung to the massive enemy, stabbing at it with desperate fervor.

Cassandra and Cole finished up the stragglers and joined him in the attack. Dorian couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let Dorian die. He had to apologize for his outburst the night before. It had been unreasonable; he knew this. But the thought, just the thought of Dorian leaving his side and returning to Tevinter without him, it sent a shot of pain through his chest so crippling he felt as if he’d been stabbed. 

With a final shudder it shattered but Kaim ignored it in favor of leaping from its back and sprinting toward his love with everything he had. He narrowly caught Dorian as he staggered and fell, lowering him gently to the ground. Kaim's chest clenched painfully. There was so much blood. No, no, no, no, he couldn’t lose Dorian. Not now. Not ever. _Please, please, Dorian no._

Dorian tried to smile up at Kaim reassuringly but it just appeared as a grimace. Kaim leaned over him as his vision faded, his face pallid with fear as he talked to him urgently. His voice sounded so far away though and he couldn't understand him. His eyes fluttered closed, sending everything to blackness.

Kaim easily hoisted the mage into his arms, letting his bloodied head rest against his neck as they made quick time back to camp. The entire way he bartered with every god he didn’t believe in, promising he’d do whatever it took to keep Dorian here with him. His promises quickly turned to threats. _I’ve been to the fade. Twice. Take him from me and I’ll hunt you to the ends of your miserable existences. Elven, Chantry, Tevinter, none will be safe and nothing will stand in my way until I have him back in my arms._

Tenderly, he laid Dorian out on a kit and proceeded to strip away the robes, tossing them aside heedless of their expense. Cassandra brought potions, poultices, herbs and bandages while Kaim finished removing all his gear to the waist. He began cleaning each wound tenderly, feeling for broken bones or internal bleeding.

The crack to the head worried him but luckily the stab to his back had been mostly deflected by his barrier and was long and shallow with a lot of deep bruising.

With a gentleness that broke Cassandra's heart he cleaned the wound, treating it as best he could with just poultices and potions before bandaging it securely. There were two gashes on his head, one splitting the corner of his forehead that was fairly superficial and one on the back of his head where he'd impacted the cliff. That was the worrisome one. It was deep and bleeding profusely. It took the rest of their potions but Kaim was eventually able to stop the bleeding. He was concerned about a concussion but they wouldn't know until he woke.

Dorian slowly surfaced from his unconsciousness and immediately regretted it. _Maker_ , everything hurt. He grunted softly at the pain and Kaim rushed to his side. Dorian's head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, like he was the drunkest he’d ever been in his life.

Kaim was saying something with that adorable little line he got between his brows when he was worried but Dorian couldn’t focus on his words somehow.

" _Maker's breath_ , I love you," he blurted out and clasped Kaim's face, pulling him down into a kiss. Kaim's toes curled in his boots and he flushed straight up his ears, an indescribable warmth spreading through his chest. He was going to be alright.

Cassandra snorted, coloring. "I think the potions are working," she chuckled.

Dorian whined when Kaim pulled back and forcibly checked his pupils for reactivity, then peeking under the bandages for excess bleeding, laughing at how grabby Dorian was being.

"Cassandra," Dorian's voice was conspiratorial and rather slurred. "Wanna know one of my favvvvrit things about Kaim? He's got these little dimples in his back right above his buttcheeks-"

"Oooookay, that's enough of that!" Kaim laughed in embarrassment.

"I like running my thumbs over them when I'm-"

"Stop! I beg you, please!" Kaim covered Dorian's mouth with a hand, his face painfully red all the way to the tips of his ears.

"But they’re right here-" He grabbed his belt and tried to turn him around, Kaim batting his hands away to fend him off.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, looking at Cassandra who was laughing so hard she'd fallen off her stool. Kaim looked around and realized that the tent was conspicuously empty and thanked his stars.

"Well, he appears to have command of a detailed memory so I'd say he's going to be fine." She chuckled and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder as she stood to leave.

"I feel funny," Dorian complained when she was gone.

"I was trying to explain to you that I gave you a rather potent elven remedy for pain and to accelerate healing. It has a side effect in humans." He chuckled as Dorian smacked his lips.

"I'm so proud of you. You took care of the child and left me to die," Dorian said enthusiastically.

"I-I didn't-"

"No, no, it's good." Dorian threaded his fingers into Kaim's hair and pulled him down, kissing him again. "I also love your hair," he whispered against Kaim's moist lips. "I love grabbing a handful and making you tilt your head back. You get the sexiest look on your face with your lips parted and your eyebrows pulled down." He kissed Kaim again. 

Kaim found it difficult to fend Dorian off initially with the guilt over his injuries tearing him up. On top of that, the relief that he was fine was nearly overwhelming.

"Mmmm, _Maker_ , I want you." Dorian murmured.

Kaim finally had to force him back gently. "You're injured, just relax," he insisted, struggling to resist his pout. After a few more minutes of groggy protestation Dorian drifted back to sleep. Kaim watched his peaceful, smooth features with guilt coiling in his stomach, attacking him from the inside out. Losing Dorian wasn’t an option if the pain that had raced through his chest when Dorian was hit by the behemoth was anything to judge by. Kaim resolved to destroy anything that stood between them no matter the cost.

Quite some time later Dorian awoke again, this time much more lucid but also feeling like he'd been stepped on by a giant. For a moment he just laid there, staring up at the tent, idly realizing it was dark out and wondering how long he'd been out.

Dorian glanced over, finding Kaim sitting on the ground next to him. He was sound asleep with his head cushioned on one arm, the other clutching Dorian’s hand to his chest. 

Inquisition soldiers came and went since they weren't in the sleeping tent but the communal one for injuries and storage. Their curious glances were averted on seeing Dorian was now awake and he smiled. Kaim really didn't care who knew about them. The feeling was so new, foreign and freeing. It was amazing.

Gently, he removed his hand from Kaim's chest and ran his fingers through his hair. The movement woke Kaim and he sat up, blearily looking around and rubbing his eyes before rising on his knees with a concerned expression.

"How do you feel?" he asked and Dorian nearly melted. This man was too good to him.

"Like I've been licked by a unicorn," he replied glibly with his most charming smile and Kaim sighed in exasperation. "I'll be fine, Kaim," he said as reassuringly as he could.

Kaim helped him sit up slowly and peeled away the bandages, checking the wound. "It's going to scar," he frowned.

"Good," Dorian said.

"What? Why?"

"I need proof of my daring deeds, don’t I?" Dorian gave him a dazzling smile over his shoulder and Kaim glared back at him.

"Well, then you'll be pleased about the ones on your head as I'm positive both of them will scar," he said sourly.

"The one on the back is covered by hair and hardly matters. This one might look dashing though," Dorian replied with an impish smile as he pointed to his forehead.

"You're doing this specifically to torment me," Kaim complained in annoyance.

"Always." He turned and cupped Kaim's chin in his hand, laying a soft, apologetic kiss against his lips.

Several people around the tent smiled, trying not to be obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Kaim whispered when they parted. “I didn’t mean-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Dorian cut him off. “I should have shared my thoughts with you sooner. I just worry. You have so much pressure on you, so much on your shoulders.” His fingers skirted Kaim’s slender shoulder to accentuate his words. “I didn’t want to add more to it, especially in light of my failure to find a cure for you.” Dorian laced the fingers of his hand with those of Kaim’s anchor hand, squeezing gently. 

“We will find one,” Kaim reassured him, “together, like we always have.” 

\---

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long time between chapters guys. I know I've been saying this, but we're nearing the end. At the absolute most I have two chapters to go. It was supposed to be one, but there's enough left to cover that I'll probably split it in two. Sorry to leave you all hanging, but I promise it'll be worth the wait. =3
> 
> Thank you all of you who have stuck with me and continued to comment and encourage me. Without you, this story would have died long ago.
> 
> \---
> 
> Kaim's life, as well as his body, will forever be changed by the closing events of the Inquisition. Will his relationship survive the fallout?
> 
> \---

The fading light of the setting sun spilled liquid gold across the cold stone of the floor, muted through the sheer curtains. The occasional blade of light cut the dim haze of twilight, illuminating the two figures nestled in bed. Winter nipped at the panes of glass, frosting the edges, but the fire burning within warmed the room comfortably, enough for the blankets to be thrown back halfway, exposing the occupants.

Kaim laid sprawled on his stomach, for all appearances asleep. The last light of the sun played along his brown skin, warming him and giving him a soft glow. Dorian laid beside him on his side, lazily tracing the muscle creases in an almost worshipful manner. He became lost in thought and his ministrations morphed into drawing shapes on the smooth skin of his back.

Who would have known, so long ago when he was but a teen, that his life would take such dizzying turns? Each twist and jagged edge was soothed by the very presence of the elf beside him. Kaim had changed his life in so many ways that it was nearly impossible to count them. The moment he’d laid eyes on him in his sheer turquoise dancing outfit, watching his body move so gracefully, was the first turn of many that would define his life. One he would never regret. His fingers continued dancing across his silken skin until they reached his shoulder. Dorian’s eyes followed the lines of muscle up, falling at last on the darkened, maliciously green glowing veins that now wound their way past his wrist and into his forearm. It was a rare moment in which Kaim left the leather covering off. Even in the privacy of their room he didn’t like seeing it and so it typically remained wrapped.

Despair washed over him and he returned his eyes to the healthier skin of Kaim’s back. Nothing. All his avenues of research, every contact in Tevinter who’d owed him a favor, every library, every book, all of it scoured with nothing to show in return. Kaim was still dying and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but watch. Watch the flicker of pain across his beautiful face after closing a rift, how he flexed the fingers of that hand as though to shake the numbness from them, the stolen moments staring at it in abject misery when he thought no one was looking. It killed Dorian to watch the hope drain from his eyes. There had to be something, some way to save him. The love he felt for him demanded no less.

And then there was that. He had yet to say it. Kaim had declared his love for Dorian on more than one occasion. The most memorable being the first, immediately after their first time laying together. It had taken Dorian by such surprise and he’d wanted to say it back so badly, but it was so soon in the wake of his father’s attack. The words just hadn’t come. And of course Kaim’s declaration to his father’s face. Warmth flooded Dorian just at the thought. Kaim was so brave, so much more than he deserved, yet he continued to believe himself a lesser man because of the awful events of his past. If only he understood.

After a moment he realized his fingers had begun tracing words on the rich colored skin and he paused, flushing before completing the word "love" and finishing it with "you."

He would say it he promised. Soon. 

Boldly, he traced it again, writing "I love you" across Kaim's shoulders. The phrase was repeated down his ribs and along his spine.

"Mmmm, I know." Kaim shifted, stretching lazily and Dorian froze, his eyes wide. "I love you too." Kaim glanced over his shoulder with a soft smile and Dorian’s heart melted.

"You were supposed to be asleep." His words were barely above a whisper and he leaned in close to nuzzle his nose into the hair behind Kaim’s ear.

"How could I with you writing such beautiful things across my back?" A sigh escaped Kaim that was filled with both lust and adoration and Dorian lost his head.

He pushed Kaim flat on his stomach, rolling on top of him so his chest pressed into the back he’d been using as his canvas. He slipped a hand between their hips, his thumb playing at Kaim’s still flushed and prepared entrance, pulling a wanting moan from him. The finger slipped in easily, Dorian’s weight preventing Kaim’s back from bowing up at the intrusion. He turned his head to the side, allowing Dorian to coat his neck in loving kisses and bites. Relentlessly, Dorian worked his thumb inside Kaim, his fingers massaging his balls, and he was pleased to find he was still slickly coated inside with oil and his seed.

Kaim moaned raggedly and grappled with the sheets, arching his back in attempt to push his thumb deeper. Dorian snatched up the oil and rolled to the side, coating himself liberally before tossing it aside and returning to his perch above him, lining himself up before sinking slowly into Kaim’s welcoming warmth.

Kaim gripped the sheet in his fists, biting on the knuckles of his right hand as he moaned loudly. Dorian remained pressed along the length of Kaim’s back, his thighs parted on either side of Kaim’s, holding them closed and making the fit tighter as he and proceeded to roll his hips into Kaim’s soft ass cheeks. He claimed Kaim’s ear with this lips while wrapping his arms under his shoulders and chest, hugging him close as his hips worked, bringing them closer and closer, still sensitive from their lovemaking less than an hour earlier. 

“D-Dorian...I’m-” his back arched, pushing Dorian deeper, a loud moan interrupting his words. 

“Come for me, _Amatus_.” Kaim grunted with a cry of Dorian’s name as he clenched around him, pulling him to completion right along. Gasping breaths filled the silence as they both continued to lay there, pressed close, neither willing to move and break the contact. 

“Kaim.” Dorian hesitated after a moment, breathing heavily against Kaim’s moist neck. “ _Amatus_ , I-” Why was this so difficult? 

“Dorian,” Kaim chuckled, “you realize you’ve already told me you love me, right?”

Dorian froze, his mind casting frantically over every conversation they’d had. “I have not-” 

“When you were injured and I gave you that potion? You were, in essence, drunk due to the side effects and you told me you love me.” Kaim looked over his shoulder at Dorian with a grin. 

“That hardly counts!” Dorian stared at him indignantly, rising up on his chest slightly to add drama to his statement.

“So, you don’t love me?” Kaim’s smile was infuriatingly self-satisfied and Dorian couldn’t have that. He was left with only one recourse. 

Kaim shrieked with laughter as Dorian ran his fingers lightly up the back of his thighs, his superior weight still pressed to Kaim's back prevented his escape despite his squirming. 

“Dorian! Dorian, no!” Kaim giggled, trying futilely to throw Dorian off his back as he continued teasing the only spot Kaim was ticklish, the back of his legs, running the fingers of both hands delicately along the skin. “Stop! Stoooooppp!” With his wiggling, Dorian slipped out of Kaim and slid lower, giving him better access to more of the sensitive area. 

Peals of laughter filled the room as he finally managed to flip over now that Dorian's weight was down around his hips instead of at his chest and he snatched up each of Dorian's hands, keeping them from his thighs. They wrestled for a few moments, both laughing with Dorian attempting to free his hands. Kaim flipped them, putting him on top and he laced their fingers, pressing Dorian's hands to the bed above his head, his thighs spread around his hips. 

“You're getting come all over me,” Dorian complained with a grin. Kaim wrinkled his nose indignantly, then he began rolling his hips, forcing more out and spreading it around Dorian's abs, eliciting more laughter from the man under him.

“It's your fault,” Kaim laughed, leaning down and kissing Dorian lightly. 

“Blame I will gladly assume,” Dorian murmured against Kaim's lips, “and subject you to again, and again, and again-” Kaim's laughter interrupted Dorian.

“Whatever will I do?” Kaim nuzzled their noses together then pressed his forehead to Dorian's, losing himself in his beautiful grey eyes. 

“Let me love you,” came the soft reply, and Kaim stared at Dorian, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Because I do,” Dorian continued softly. “I love you, Kaim Lavellan.” 

Dorian barely got the words out before Kaim surged forward and claimed his mouth, kissing him with a fervor that took Dorian's breath away while simultaneously pulling laughter from him. A surprised moan arose from Dorian when Kaim rolled his hips forward, slick skin gliding easily, interested parties immediately perking to life. 

“Again?” Dorian laughed, gripping Kaim's waist and hoisting him up, pulling him closer. 

\---

Pain. 

For a long time that was the only thing that registered in Kaim’s mind.

Painstakingly slowly, memories, pieces and echoes began to filter back into his bedraggled consciousness.

They had been in the Hissing Wastes. Kaim had been complaining about the sand. Again. Tombs. They had been searching through tombs the Venatori had been after. Dwarven tombs? Some...ancient dwarf and his in-fighting sons. Sera had been beyond done with everything. Blackwall complained of chafing. 

Then...the sand exploded? Venatori. They’d been hiding in the sand outside the tomb. Cleverly buried. None of them had expected the ambush.

Sensory input began to return slowly and Kaim finally registered the fact he was lying flat on his back. His skin felt uncomfortably cold and clammy and the entire left side of his face was swollen and throbbing. His jaw was tender but worked as he squinted his eyes open in the dim light, attempting to move his hands only to find them securely shackled to the surface underneath him. 

He was chained down.

Panic welled in his chest and his breaths sped up to the point of hyperventilation. _Not now, not now_. He needed to remain calm. The thought didn’t help and he began struggling against the irons, heedless of the pain and bite of the metal against his skin. 

“Ah, his lordship is finally awake.” The Venatori leader stepped closer, staring down at Kaim’s struggles dispassionately. 

“Kaim!” Dorian called from his position to Kaim’s left, chained to the wall with his hands secured over his head to prevent casting. “Concentrate on me, Kaim. I’m here with you.” 

“For all the good it’ll do him, _Altus_ Pavus,” the man sneered, glancing down at Dorian with a cruel smile. “We’ve been tasked by Corypheus himself with bringing the anchor back to him, hand included, Inquisitor not.” He laughed when Dorian cried out and surged against his bonds, casting about desperately for a way out of this situation. Normally he would have suggested they merely wait for Sera and Blackwall, the two having been rendered unconscious and left behind, but not if these bastards had something this cruel in mind. 

The mark was reacting to Kaim’s heightened emotional state, snapping and sparking with malevolent green fire, but Kaim was beyond reason, all their words nothing but white noise to him. _He was chained down. He was chained down_. 

Another Venatori approached from the side, carrying a jar filled with a viscous fluid. “Fortunately, Corypheus did not specify that he had to be dead when we carved the anchor hand free, and I must confess, I’ve always held a certain fascination with it.” His gloved hand hovered over the sparking appendage. “All I need is the hand but it appears to have crawled up his arm, like some sort of parasite. This is what happens when mortal men meddle in the matters of gods.” 

Dorian could only watch in horror as a second Venatori assistant brought over a tray containing several wicked looking blades and instruments. Frantically Dorian searched for a way out, something, anything that would help them. They were in a tiny cell, what looked like an ancient dungeon built for dwarves. All the equipment and surfaces were sized for significantly shorter beings. Kaim was chained to a slab in the center of the cell. The iron door stood open though Dorian could detect no movement from without. Perhaps it was only the three Venatori. There was barely enough room for the three men to crowd around Kaim without stepping on Dorian in the process. Dorian himself was on his knees, arms stretched over his head and pinned against the wall in thick iron shackles. Their gear and weapons were stowed against the wall near the door along with the supplies of the Venatori but there was nothing of use within reach. As far as he could tell they were in one of the underground ruins, as such yelling would likely yield no helpful results. 

He could see no feasible way out of this.

The leader chose a particularly wicked, curved blade from the tray, inspecting it in purposefully slow consideration. Dorian looked to Kaim struggling futilely on the table. He appeared entirely unaware of the situation around him, lost in his own nightmares and Dorian’s heart twisted painfully. If they made it out alive this would be a serious blow to Kaim’s mental health.. 

The Venatori leader moved so Dorian could see what was happening. He leaned over Kaim, placing a hand on his bicep to hold him still, the knife hovering over the topmost tainted veins in his forearm. Tears stained Dorian’s cheeks when the knife bit in and Kaim screamed, blood flowing freely to pool on the stone beneath him. Dorian wanted to beg, plead, cry for them not to do this but he knew it would be wasted breath. In fact they’d likely revel in his misery.

As the blade continued down his forearm toward his wrist the mark responded to the damage, green flames licking out of the thin, clean cut, intensifying as the incision grew longer. Kaim’s scream continued, his hips bowing from the table in his struggle to escape. 

“Fascinating-” The word was barely out of the man’s mouth when it happened. Kaim’s scream hit a crescendo and the mark exploded in a burst of power, green flames bathing everything in a two meter radius in a scorching ball of volatile magic. The pressure hit Dorian and he heard his own shout of pain as if from afar. It wasn’t a searing heat as he would’ve expected; it was more akin to his flesh being torn and unraveled, his very self being picked apart.

_So, this was what fade magic felt like_ , he thought idly before he blacked out.

A sharp gasp accompanied Kaim’s jolt back to consciousness. He was dazed and confused. Everything after the ambush was a blur but one thing was certain, his left arm throbbed like nothing he’d ever felt before. His whole body ached, most of the pain radiating from the anchor into his shoulder before echoing into his chest. His wrists and ankles also hurt, aching as if-

The chains! Bits of what happened filtered through the haze and he shot upward, immediately regretting it as the deep cut on his arm pulled, the congealed surface tearing easily and reopening. In shock he stared down as the brittle remains of the shackles fell away from his left wrist. 

It looked charred.

Mind too numb to fully process everything, he stared around in shocked silence. The remains of three men laid partially burnt around him. The closest one was missing nearly his entire upper half, the remaining portions deformed and warped. His gaze settled on his arm, noticing it was sliced open from midway up his forearm to almost the heel of his palm before he remembered.

Dorian! 

His movements desperate, Kaim struggled against the remaining shackle on his right wrist and the ones on his ankles. Breathing deeply, he steeled himself then began patting through the dead body’s pockets in search of a key. Triumphant, he ignored the throbbing in his arm and the blood running freely across his hand as he undid his bindings, his eyes trained desperately on the limp form of Dorian, hanging unresponsively against the wall.

“Oh, no, no, no, no Dorian!” Kaim scrambled off the table and immediately collapsed, only now realizing all the blood pooled on the table and floor was likely his own, meaning he’d lost much more than he’d thought. At the moment though, other than the dizziness, he cared little, half crawing, half dragging himself to where Dorian hung. 

He was in bad shape. The blackened, charred marks extended across the wall and over Dorian’s left hand. His robes were singed badly, though it looked like his arm had shielded his face from the worst of it. Kaim breathed heavily in exhaustion and desperation as he dragged himself up, unlocking the shackles holding Dorian captive while his eyes dazedly took in the state of the room. All of the blackened surfaces radiated outward from one focal point, where his left hand had been shackled, yet Kaim was completely untouched. The anchor did this then. 

Kaim’s breath stuttered in his chest when Dorian finally came free, collapsing limp against Kaim as he laid him down gently, assessing the damage. Dorian’s left hand was burnt along the heel of his palm, up his pinky and across some of the pad of his palm. The burns continued down his forearm, skipping the areas covered by the shackles and the remnants of his robes. Unfortunately his robes had been open at the chest and a burn marred the skin across his left pectoral and part of his shoulder. Kaim sobbed softly as he hovered, unsure of what to do. He spied their packs and gear and crawled over, retrieving the sack with their poultices, applying them liberally to Dorian’s burns. Kaim whimpered softly as he worked, glancing anxiously at Dorian’s still features and pale complexion. 

The mark, the mark was what did this. The mark hurt Dorian. Kaim was dangerous. He needed to keep Dorian away from him. Dorian wasn’t safe near him. His thoughts were jumbled and confused, finding it hard to think through his traumatized haze but what he knew for certain was he’d hurt Dorian and he could never let that happen again. 

After what seemed an eternity Dorian began to stir. Kaim sobbed in relief when his eyes finally opened. 

“ _Amatus_ , what-what happened?” He winced when he attempted to sit, obeying when Kaim pressured his good shoulder gently, keeping him still His gaze swept over the room, eyes widening. 

“The mark,” Kaim cried. “I hurt you.” 

Ignoring Kaim’s flailing attempts to keep him prone, Dorian sat up immediately, gripping Kaim’s shoulder tightly with his right hand. 

“You absolutely did not. That was the Venatori-” 

“No, it wasn’t. The mark charred everything, including them.” His blue green eyes turned back toward the table and the carnage there but Dorian’s hand on his chin stopped him, forcing his gaze back to him. 

“Do you remember what happened?” A tentative shake of Kaim’s head was his answer, his eyes still brimming with tears. “They cut your arm. That’s why it’s bleeding everywhere. _Maker preserve_!” That was when Dorian noticed Kaim hadn’t cared for himself at all and snatched up a length of his robe, wrapping it tightly around Kaim’s forearm to stop the bleeding. “They cut into your arm and the mark reacted violently. Likely to protect itself, if such a thing were possible.”

“But your hand and your chest,” Kaim hiccuped, barely holding it together. 

“They will be fine.” Dorian felt he may have been lying with that statement. His ft hand felt stiff, as though he'd lost range of motion in his palm and pinky. “I've survived worse attacks from Alexius during training, if you'll recall.” His chuckle was not shared and Kaim continued to look at him with the most painfully tragic expression on his face. 

“Come,” he encouraged, moving stiffly to where their gear had been discarded, “let us quit this dreadful place and find our likely still unconscious comrades.” 

Kaim hovered over Dorian as they gathered their things, to the point that he almost snapped at him, but one look at Kaim's haunted features told him it would be unwise. It wasn't Kaim's fault, the poor man still seemed somewhat dazed, as though he had trouble processing anything beyond ‘I hurt Dorian’ and it worried him. 

It turned out Blackwall and Sera had made it back to camp and reported the Inquisitor’s capture, readying a search party even as they showed up in camp, much the worse for wear. Every one of their explanations and apologies were brushed off, with Kaim acting more withdrawn than normal. 

With as clingy as Kaim had been lately, hardly going anywhere without Dorian or even straying far from his side, it was a definite change now, that on their return to Skyhold Kaim kept at a significant distance. He even went as far as to move away when Dorian attempted to close the gap, often keeping someone between them. This wouldn't do and Dorian could guess easily at the reason. 

Unfortunately, his investigation would have to wait as the advisors wanted more detailed information on this new development from the mark immediately on their arrival. Apparently, they felt Kaim might become a threat. He wasn't invited to the meeting but he went anyway. After all, he was the only living witness. Kaim didn't count this time. 

“The anchor _disintegrated_ a Venatori?” Josephine backed away a step as though to effect some distance should it decide to do it again. Dorian rolled his eyes. 

“The Inquisitor was under immeasurable stress and these were extreme circumstances!” All eyes turned to Dorian except Kaim's. “They had him chained to a table, planning to sever his hand and deliver it to Corypheus but only after cutting into his arm to experiment with it!” He gestured wildly to accentuate his point. “My hypothesis is the magic reacted to Kaim's fight or flight reflex and defended him _for_ him, since he was incapable. So, unless you all plan on dicing up Kaim's hand anytime soon, then it should be just as safe as it was before.” 

“How can we be sure?” Cullen glanced at Kaim's bandage wrapped hand before returning his burning gaze to Dorian. “Can you guarantee it won't flare up again?” 

“Of course not. Magic like this doesn't seem to exist anywhere else in Thedas. All my statements are conjecture but they _are_ based in close study and observation, and I do not believe the mark is dangerous to anyone in close proximity Kaim. I should know, I got a close look at what it's capable of.” He waved his own bandaged hand for emphasis.

“I doubt we'll find a better guarantee than that,” Leliana interjected quietly, hands folded at the small of her back. 

“I suppose you're right,” Cullen acquiesced with a nod of his head. “You must be tired Kaim. Get some rest. We’ll meet with you again when you're feeling up to it.” 

A halfhearted nod was his only response before Kaim turned and shuffled from the room, lacking his usual grace and elegance. The advisors exchanged glances once Dorian turned to follow him. He looked exhausted, worn down. 

“Do you think he will be alright?” Josephine asked quietly once the door closed behind Dorian. 

Leliana pursed her lips in thought. “There is no good way of telling. Kaim has suffered so much trauma in his life. A lesser man would have broken long ago. Then to be thrust unwillingly into the role of leader, run ragged with the expectations of saving everyone on his shoulders. Honestly, I am surprised he is still going.” She glanced at Cullen, who nodded thoughtfully. 

“Hopefully this is over soon and he will have a well deserved rest.” 

Dorian finally made it up the ridiculous amount of stairs to the Inquisitor’s chambers. “Maker preserve, whoever decided placing your quarters at the top of the void cursed keep should be hanged,” he cursed petulantly, spying Kaim sitting on the bed with his back to him. 

“This isn't going to work.” Kaim's voice was so soft it was difficult to hear, but when Dorian attempted to cross the room to him Kaim reacted by backing away, his eyes full of fear. 

“ _Amatus_ , do not be silly. You are no more a danger than you were before.” He followed Kaim until he ran out of room, bumping against the wall. 

“Dorian, I _hurt_ you.” His tears were falling again and Dorian hated that more than anything in the world. Kaim should never have to cry. 

“Not badly, and I-” 

“I _saw_ you trying to heal it. Your hand doesn't move as easily now, does it? And the burns won't heal cleanly. It's the fade magic, isn't it?” Kaim hiccuped and took Dorian's left hand between his own, cradling it gently, his fingers tracing the burn scars. 

There was no denying it and Dorian sighed heavily. “No, you are correct on all accounts, but it was not your fault.” Dorian took hold of his chin with his right hand and forced Kaim to look at him. “No one knew the mark would react that way, not even the Venatori. If anything I think they got what they deserved and this is a pittance to pay for such a well deserved fate.” His smile was infectious and Kaim felt himself reciprocating despite it all. 

After a few moments Dorian sobered. “Kaim, this may not be a good time but we never had the chance to speak on what happened in Emprise du Lion.” 

“You mean when you were hurt?” Kaim allowed Dorian to drag him gently to the bed where he had him sit and began unwrapping the bandages on his arm. 

“No, before that. The fight we had.” Taking care not to hurt Kaim, Dorian peeled back the bandages, revealing the still angry looking slice in his arm. He refused to allow Kaim to flinch away, correctly guessing it was not because it hurt. 

“I apologized for that-” Kaim's confusion showed on his face and Dorian interrupted with a shake of his head as he began tenderly cleaning and healing the wound. 

“It is not an apology I seek. You were extremely upset by the thought that I had kept any plans or thoughts on my return to Tevinter to myself.” Kaim tellingly stiffened. “You _do_ know that I must return, yes? This foray into Ferelden was only supposed to be temporary.” 

“I understand but we're staying together. I haven't fought this hard to just-” he paused, “give up on us.” Kaim's eyes never left Dorian's healing fingers until he interrupted his actions to cup Kaim's face. 

“There will never _not_ be an _us_. That I promise you. We may be parted again for a little, but I will always come for you. You are my _Amatus_. Beloved. My one and only.” 

Tears filled his eyes as Kaim surged into Dorian's arms, burying his fingers in his short dark hair, and hugging him as close as possible. The idea of being separated left an aching chasm in Kaim's chest, but as long as Dorian still loved him and promised to come for him, then he could survive. 

He had to. 

\---

Blue flickering light filled the room, like magical fire reflected off a pool of water, setting the shadows dancing eerily across the space. This was the second Maker cursed time he'd done this! Dorian was getting tired of it. Next time he would make sure Kaim went through the magic portal first! 

Just as he was about to shoulder his way back through the eluvian to find him, Kaim came staggering through, light still clinging to his form like water soaked through a cloak in a rainstorm, an after effect of taking a dip in the well no doubt. Morrigan stepped forward and closed the eluvian behind them, the light slowly fading away, returning Kaim to his normal state. It had been eerie seeing him clothed in light like some sort of elvhen god from legend. Mythal’s avatar? Who knew what that thrice cursed thing had done to him. 

Their argument by the side of the well had been short and to the point, with Kaim winning almost instantly.

_“All that knowledge. If there’s even a chance the answer to the problem with my hand is in there-”_ Kaim had let the words hang between them, sharper than any blade, and Dorian realized then he had no recourse, no argument to possibly trump that. Even if it didn’t pan out, just the chance that there might be the solution in the crystalline waters to save him was nearly enough to have Dorian dive into the well himself, and damn the consequences. 

Kaim had been adamant. He did not believe in the elvhen gods, nor any gods at all. After all, the Tevinter gods turned out to be “asshole dragons who bawled around and started blights.” Dorian had snorted at that description. _If_ there was a price to be paid, Kaim had reasoned, then the being to pay it to must be long since dead. Abelas had said himself Mythal had been murdered. In all, Kaim had felt the risk was worth the possible reward. Then he’d come out babbling in a language Dorian couldn’t comprehend. Morrigan had said it was ancient elvish, and it took Kaim a minute to reorient himself and begin speaking understandably again.

All of this left Dorian feeling uneasy as he followed Kaim, heading for the War Room to discuss what had happened. 

_The eluvians_ … 

Dorian glanced back as they walked, ideas forming in his head. He’d had no idea the passages still worked, and the crossroads--surely there were eluvians that didn’t use the crossroads, ones that led to a specific destination and back again? If the passages were still open, who was to say he couldn’t build his own? In the same manner of finding a deep roads entrance and commandeering it for his own purposes. 

Theories and ideas began swirling through his head faster than he could think, but this was good, at least he had something now. The overpowering urge to share his epiphany with Kaim was halted by the thought that Kaim likely had enough on his plate right now with the new addition of the well’s knowledge. That and he didn’t want to distract him if there still was the possibility of uncovering a cure. No, he would keep this to himself and reveal it as a surprise when the time was right. 

In truth, Dorian felt lighter in that moment than he had in months. He finally had a plan of action.

\---

Heated arguing drew Dorian’s attention over the railing and down into the circular where Solas made his residence; he closed his book. It wasn’t like he was making headway at the moment anyway. The elf in question came storming into his room, followed closely by Kaim, both speaking very quickly and fluently in elvish. It was beautiful in a way. Dorian had never heard it actually spoken in a conversation, always just pieces, and there was the added issue of if the words were being pronounced correctly. Not here though; the words flowed almost like a song, weaving and crashing in their elegance and vehemence. In interest, Dorian stood and leaned on the railing, watching them intently.

Solas gestured angrily and Kaim argued back, spreading his hands placatingly, then throwing his hands up in exasperation and holding one out to the side, as though asking a question. More of a rhetorical question it seemed. Solas pointed a finger into his chest and ground something out between his teeth. Kaim flung his arms out to the side with a yell and glared back at him.

Abruptly he stopped and held up a hand to Solas, taking a deep breath. He then proceeded to calmly explain something, his eyebrows tilted up as though asking for understanding. Solas’s shoulders slumped and he muttered something back, almost in apology. Kaim appeared to be asking him something and Solas collapsed into his seat, talking animatedly with his hands and Kaim curled his legs under himself, sitting up on the table, leaning forward as though to soak up his words. 

Dorian’s eyes narrowed as he watched them. Kaim usually kept his relations with his companions separate from everything else, desiring to speak with them on an individual basis rather than in a group. As such Dorian rarely got to see him interact with Solas. But from this encounter Dorian deduced something interesting, Kaim greatly respected Solas. He appeared to regard him as a teacher, an elder, perhaps even a father figure. Granted, Kaim talked mostly with Dorian, and quite a bit with Sera, Bull, and Blackwall, he spoke entirely differently with Solas. Carefully. As though he were weighing each word, judging its value and place in the sentence. 

Watching them talk without being able to understand a word was fascinating and he loitered at the rail, observing the body language. He had no idea Solas meant that much to Kaim.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Leliana asked from next to Dorian.

"My guess would have to be something regarding the well," Dorian replied, affecting a casual demeanor whilst inside worrying intensely about Kaim.

"I've never heard Kaim use so much elvish so fluently. He usually speaks more Tevene." Leliana’s eyes never left the pair in the circular below.

"Again, likely the well's doing," Dorian replied with a frown.

She wandered away when their conversation appeared to be coming to a close, allowing Dorian to remain where he was while Kaim made his way up the library stairs to where Dorian usually sat ensconced with his books. 

“You have a sudden and rather complete command of elvhen,” Dorian commented lazily, leaning his elbow on the rail and his chin on his fist, considering his boyfriend as he approached.

“It’s-” Kaim paused, joining Dorian at the rail. “It’s odd. I can’t seem to control it. If you asked me to speak elvhen right this moment I probably couldn’t do it.” He leaned on his elbows, looking down into the circular where Solas had begun painting once more. “But when Solas addressed me in elvhen it just sort of flowed out. I didn’t even realize I was speaking a different language until I noticed the weird looks we were garnering as we crossed the Great Hall.” 

Dorian nodded. He’d been afraid of that. Together they began meandering back toward Dorian’s nook. “Do you think you’ll be able to sift through the confusion and find anything of use?” He hesitated to even ask, but it had been Kaim’s reasoning for accepting the well’s knowledge to begin with. 

“I don’t know. It’s all a jumble of voices. Sometimes it’s difficult to make out what they’re saying, sometimes it’s-” Kaim trailed off mid sentence his eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted as though assaulted by a loud sound. A hand raised to his head and his other reached to the wall to steady himself, his face contorted into a grimace.

"Kaim!" Dorian's arms encircled his lean shoulders to support him.

"I hear you! Just shut up!" Kaim growled lowly then shook his head to clear it. "Not you, Dorian. What I was going to say was the voices get loud when they think I'm ignoring them. Obstinate is more like it. Hopefully this fades into the background in time. Either that or I learn to compartmentalize and ignore them.”

Dorian led him to his chair and sat him down. “They are actual voices you can hear? Individual vocalizations?” The knowledge of the well fascinated Dorian and he couldn’t seem to help himself, questioning while simultaneously hovering over and worrying about Kaim. 

“That’s really the only way to describe it, I guess.” Kaim reached back and pulled out the tie for his ponytail, allowing his hair to cascade around his shoulders while rubbing his scalp with his fingers. “Most of the time it’s a whispering just along the edges of my consciousness, but it’s like they’re these intrusive thoughts. I can’t auditorily hear them but it feels as though they have a voice, though I couldn’t describe it in any measure. There’s no ‘smooth baritone’ whispering in my ear.” 

“Good! Or I’d have to have a firmly worded conversation with these ‘voices’,” Dorian chuckled, replacing Kaim’s fingers in rubbing his head, pleased when Kaim laughed lightly. 

“Have no fear,” Kaim grinned, “the only velvety voice in my ear is yours, _Vhenan_.” 

“As it should be.” 

\---

How did the saying go? No rest for the wicked? Well apparently there was none to be had for the tormented and exhausted either. Kaim had expected once the well was theirs, with Corypheus’s hold broken and his troops in retreat, that they would then have a plan of action to confront him and crush him once and for all. Apparently, this was a belief founded in fantasy and unrealistic wishes. According to Cullen and Leliana, Corypheus was nowhere to be found. They had to sit on their hands and wait for him to do something. 

The asshole was likely pouting in a corner of Thedas over his loss of the well. Or he could be rebuilding his forces for another attack, or something equally dastardly, and all they could do was wait, listen, and hope when the news came in that it wasn’t too devastating. 

Kaim had spent the better majority of his life waiting on his master’s whims. He hated waiting. 

Rest however, just would not come, not with the threat still looming over them, waiting anxiously for Corypheus to strike. Therefore, Kaim leapt at every opportunity to keep his mind and body busy, dragging his poor team all through the basin in search of Ameridan, then into the deep, investigating the sudden and inexplicable tremors terrifying the dwarves.

Through it all, Kaim grew increasingly withdrawn, keeping to himself more often than not, and when he wasn’t he was clinging to Dorian in an obsessive and possessive manner. The change was dramatic enough that even the advisors took note and questioned Dorian, though the only explanation he could give was his impending departure for Tevinter. He assured them it was no time soon, but that Kaim was likely under extensive stress and it was exacerbating his emotional state. There wasn’t much of a choice but to accept the explanation and hope for the best. 

It did worry Dorian, however, and he hoped they would have plenty of time before his return to Tevinter to spend together in quiet companionship. Also the more time he was given to commit to his new vein of research the better. It was proving difficult to research the magic involved. Finding appropriate mirrors was also an impossible task, especially since he needed two and was unable to use the resources of the Inquisition in order to prevent Kaim from finding out. 

Then it happened. 

Corypheus reopened the breach, tearing the sky apart and ripping up large chunks of earth, forcing their hand and a confrontation. 

\---

This fight was carrying on too long. 

Blackwall’s shield was shorn in half, using the remaining piece to protect his face from the splash of Corypheus’s magical fire. Sera was nearly out of arrows, snatching them up off the field as the group moved, following the teleporting menace. All her phials of alchemical mixtures were used up and gone, leaving her a single jar of bees. Dorian downed his last vial of lyrium, feeling his energy renewed once more, but also knowing this was it; they needed to end the fight soon. 

Of all of them however, Kaim had taken the brunt of Corypheus’s fury and his armor showed it. A number of the leather pieces were completely burnt away. His undershirt was in tatters, his ponytail sagging low on the back of his head, the tail tangled and full of debris with how often he’d been throwing himself around to dodge the brutal attacks. But his daggers still flashed, leading them on with unwavering determination. The dragon under his command had been of immeasurable assistance, but they had to finish the archdemon off on their own once it fell, and Kaim had nearly been crushed in its foul jaws. 

All that remained now was Corypheus, if the asshole would simply remain still.

Desperately, Blackwall hacked and slashed at him while Sera sought out a perch to better sight each arrow from. The wall above their battlefield provided elevation for Dorian, who unleashed spell after spell at the monster, always keeping the slender, flipping form of Kaim in his field of vision. 

In irritation, Corypheus threw out his hand and blasted Dorian’s perch with fire, sending the weakened stones scattering in all directions, and the mage atop it sprawling to the ground. Scrambling to regain his feet, Dorian’s head snapped up to find Corypheus looming above him. Had he teleported again? 

A ragged cry of fear echoed in Dorian’s ears, unsure who exactly it had come from as time slowed to a crawl, paralyzed watching the blow Corypheus intended for him fall. His eyes closed, Kaim’s name on his lips, but the impact never happened even as the seconds ticked by. Instead something warm spattered his face and his eyes opened once more, his fingers dancing along the skin of his face, only to draw back coated in blood. 

Blood? Blood without pain? 

Kaim! His head snapped up to find Kaim between them, two of the monster’s claws protruding from his back. Kaim had taken the blow intended for him. 

_No_! 

“Dorian, get down!” Kaim wheezed, his voice sounding entirely too watery. Barely a moment later he whipped his dagger around and stabbed himself in the forearm, just above his left wrist. The raging inferno of fade magic just barely missed Dorian in his wild dive to the side, hiding behind a mound of rubble. The damage inflicted was undeniable. Corypheus flew backward, staggering and wailing at the intense pain, his arm that had been impaling Kaim was gone, the stump folded as though warped through the fade. 

Stalking angrily, as if he hadn’t been stabbed through the chest, Kaim yanked his sparking and flaring hand. His armor was burned away to his elbow, revealing sickeningly pulsing green veins to mid forearm. The orb flew to his open fingers, answering his call. Dorian and the party could only stare on in wonder as malevolent green magic poured forth, aimed at the sky, the breach closing with a resounding boom that had many onlookers covering their ears. 

The orb fractured, shards falling in pieces around his outstretched palm, which he then turned on Corypheus. Rift magic flared, matter folding in on itself, and the monster disappeared with a pained shriek, the very magic he'd so desired the cause of his demise. 

His death had an unexpected consequence, however. With the magic causing the disruptions gone the pieces of floating earth, the displaced ruins, the hovering islands, all of it began to collapse. The ground beneath their feet lurched, sending them sprawling, scrambling to escape the falling structures. 

“Kaim!” Dorian struggled toward him, his heart in his throat when Kaim's injury caught up to him and he fell to a knee, crimson coating his entire front. There was no time. The ruins were quickly crumbling around them when Dorian managed to reach his side. Instead of attempting to move him he curled around Kaim, shielding him from the worst of any falling debris. Kaim clung to his front, holding him close as they waited out the worst of it. 

\---

Cold nights began to give way to warm days, heralding the impending arrival of spring. The sheer curtains billowed softly in the warm breeze dancing through the window, clearing the sickly air in the room and bringing with it a crisp freshness. 

Dwarfed by the huge bed against one wall, the curtains drawn fully back, laid Kaim. The trip back to the keep had almost killed him. With four abdominal puncture wounds and two that went completely through him, it meant he lost a lot of blood. He was much recovered, but his skin still held a sickly pallor, a far cry from his normal golden brown tone. 

Not a day passed without Dorian by his bedside, the man having taken up primary care for his wounds. Almost a full week had expired since their defeat of Corypheus and descent from the ruins, yet Kaim had not woken since collapsing after the fight ended. Each day that passed without Kaim's eyes opening furthered Dorian’s worry that he may never regain consciousness. After all, Kaim had been under more stress than any one being should be required to shoulder. 

Not only that, but stabbing himself in the arm hadn't helped his situation any. Dorian was honestly afraid he may not recover full motion in his hand after that stunt. The dagger had gone cleanly through his forearm, slipping right between the bones. 

All of the damage had been cleaned, closed, and healed, but Kaim remained unresponsive, therefore Dorian remained by his bed, hoping against hope his eyes would open. The time had been spent usefully but without much headway. His research on the eluvians was moving slowly; there just wasn't much material to be had on it. If only he could have examined the working one in Skyhold more closely, but the witch had taken it and her son immediately after Corypheus’ defeat, without even waiting for confirmation the Inquisitor would live, disappearing into the wilds. 

Dorian supposed it was for the best. Her motivations had been unclear from the start, though it meant his only access to a working eluvian was denied. Tiredly he closed his eyes a moment, palm on the open tome resting next to Kaim's unmoving hand, holding the pages flat. 

Something brushed his fingers softly and his eyes snapped open to find glittering blue green slits gazing up at him, Kaim's fingers grasping weakly for his own. 

“Kaim!” Dorian sighed, his relief so intense it felt as though an iron band clenching his chest had snapped, allowing him to breathe again. 

“How long-” Kaim rasped, stopping when he found speaking through his dry throat difficult. Immediately Dorian assisted him in sitting up while he piled pillows behind his shoulders and neck. He cradled his head, holding a glass of water carefully to his lips. 

Once he drank enough to wet his throat Dorian helped him lie back once more. “You've been unconscious almost seven days. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come back to me, you stupid, insufferable, risk taking fool!” 

Kaim gave him a lazy smile. “What a greeting. Perhaps I should go back to sleep and try again.” 

“Don't you dare.” Dorian smiled despite himself, leaning forward to claim Kaim's chapped lips, uncaring, and simply glad to have him back. 

“Can we go on vacation now? I think we need to get away for a while.” Already Kaim could feel exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. Despite Dorian's previous statement he quickly checked his wounds, then tucked the blankets warmly around Kaim before crawling into bed next to him, laying flush by his side with his arms circling and holding him close.

“This is a fabulous notion. I'll inform Josephine at the earliest opportunity. I'm sure there's someplace quiet and private we can tuck away for a few weeks once you're recovered enough. If anyone deserves a vacation it's you.” 

A soft smile lit Kaim's face as he drifted back to sleep, feeling safe and secure in Dorian's embrace. 

\---

Things never go how they're intended though. Kaim's injuries took longer to heal than anticipated, requiring months to return to his natural state of flexibility. Even then, however, his arm never fully recovered. His wrist remained stiff no matter how he flexed and exercised it, the wound retaining a sickly green hue to the scar. His skin was severely damaged, with three knotted and raised imperfections. The veins had also begun to glow brightly through the skin of his palm on both sides, leading every expert they consulted to recommend against any use of the mark unless absolutely necessary. 

Their small vacation was all too short, despite it consuming several weeks for them. They stayed in a small cottage in a quiet glen next to a lake, every moment tainted by the thought that immediately after Dorian would be leaving for Tevinter, leaving Kaim behind. 

For all the good they'd accomplished the Inquisition was now an army to rival those of entire nations.. They oversaw whole regions, patrolled roads, even governed towns they'd commandeered during the fight against Corypheus. There was much to do, much to still decide on, and Kaim's presence and input was required. 

At the very least it helped fill his empty days, kept his mind off the ache in his chest, the hole, his longing. But the nights were torture.

Sleep simply did not come. Having become so accustomed to a warm, firm presence in the bed beside him, it was a jarring change to be without him. It became a terrible cycle of staring at the ceiling until dawn lit it, repeating night after night until exhaustion forced him to collapse, falling into half dead, restless sleep, only to repeat the process the next night. 

Weeks turned to months. Letters were weekly at first, petering off to one every few weeks as Dorian's schedule became increasingly busy, leaving Kaim spending his evenings rereading every letter received. His precious tether to his beloved. 

Solas’s disappearance hit him hard as well, leaving yet another hole in his already small list of friends. But the biggest part, the one Kaim refused to speak of in his return letters to Dorian, was the anchor. As the months passed it continued to degenerate, the veins slowly crawling up his arm, the severe glow spreading up his wrist. The worst part was the spasms. They began as tremors, gaining strength over time until his entire arm would lock up, rendering his left hand useless until the spasm passed, during which the mark would spark and spit. Not many knew of this new development as he was careful to hide it, but he knew it wouldn't be long before he couldn't control it anymore. 

Things would get better once Dorian could return to Skyhold. This became a mantra Kaim repeated to himself obsessively, his only reason for not going mad. 

\---

It had been a full year, an entire year since Kaim had last seen Dorian. He was on the verge of marching to Tevinter himself and dragging him back. The news that Dorian would be attending the Exalted Council came as his first breath of fresh air in all that time. 

It was all he could do to remain cordial through the introductions, political negotiations, and niceties, greeting some of the companions for the first time in weeks, and others in months. A few had wanted to accomplish goals of their own, returning for the council. For one Blackwall was now a genuine Grey Warden. Kaim couldn't be prouder of him. Sera never strayed far from Kaim's side since Dorian left and had been a constant source of support and guidance for him. In all he admitted he likely wouldn't have survived without her. 

In the middle of speaking with Divine Vivienne and some noble Kaim couldn't be bothered to remember was when it happened. Kaim would know that rear profile anywhere, especially the bare brown shoulder enticingly set on display.

With hardly a word of excuse Kaim left the conversation, completely missing Vivienne’s smiling excuses for the Inquisitor’s rude departure, knowing exactly where he was going. His eyes never left his target, gaining speed as he crossed the courtyard, taking the steps three at a time. 

Clearly the man speaking to Dorian said something because he turned, a hopeful expression on his bronzed features. The Tevinter sun had been good to him, darkening his skin to a much deeper brown, one Kaim remembered from their youth. And he definitely approved. 

Almost sprinting now, Kaim closed the distance, leaping straight into Dorian's arms, crushed firmly against his chest. His smile was so wide it almost hurt, laughing lightly when Dorian spun them around, his feet high off the ground. After a moment he set Kaim back on his toes, leaning down to kiss him with a fervor and passion that took his breath away. 

Murmurs and whispers flew around the couple, but neither cared in the least, wholly consumed by the man in their arms, tasting, smelling, touching, reacquainting themselves with remembered qualities. The need for air parted their lips, but only long enough to fill burning lungs before diving in again, drinking deeply and repeatedly, until the desperation faded a little. 

When their senses began to return once more they found the Divine had cleared the area of the courtyard around them, bustling the gossiping nobles away with the same type of glance a mother gave a disobedient child. Dorian traced Kaim's haggard features with reverent fingers, not at all liking the dark circles and lines that hadn't been there before. 

“ _Amatus_ , you have not been sleeping.” It wasn't a question. 

Kaim sighed. “No, I haven't.” There was no point in lying. “It's been...hard.” He reached up and cupped Dorian's face, pressing their foreheads together. “But now you're here and all is right again.” 

They walked and talked, catching up on what felt like a lifetime of things, despite their frequent letters. Inevitably the conversation swung back to Dorian's stay.

“-and I was thinking about my quarters in Skyhold, and that maybe we should get something small outside it. You know, something a little more private-” 

“Kaim,” Dorian interrupted, “you do realize I can't stay, yes? I'm returning to Tevinter after the Exalted Council is complete?” He turned to face him squarely, taking both of Kaim's hands in his own, debating whether or not to break the news to him about his nearly complete eluvians or not. 

“But...I thought-” a spasm chose that moment to wrack Kaim's frame. His arm clenched and seized up, his hand forming an agonized claw, his breath exhaling in a hiss against the pain. “Damn, they're getting worse.” 

“Kaim!” Dorian immediately led him to a bench and assisted him in sitting, removing his glove and the leather wrap, shocked at how high on his arm the mark had grown. “I had no idea it had worsened to this extent.” His brow furrowed in worry. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“You were too far away and had your own problems to deal with. All it would have done was worry you needlessly. There was and is nothing to be done about it, and you know it.” 

A clenched look pinched Dorian's features. “A fatalistic view to be sure.” 

“But not inaccurate.” Kaim pulled his hand away and began rewrapping it. “With it worsening this fast, I'm not sure how much time I have-”

Dorian seized his shoulders. “I will not fail you. I am still searching; please do not give up hope.” 

Kaim could never say no to those pleading grey eyes. “Stay with me,” he begged, just above a whisper.

“Kaim, I-...I can't. My father was assassinated. I've ascended to the magisterium.” With that bit of news Kaim's head drooped. He knew what that meant, what that entailed. 

“Can you stall? Take a leave of absence?” His hair, now long enough to hang almost to his waist cascaded around his face, hiding his features. 

Dorian sighed softly as he reached forward and brushed the black silk back, tilting his face up with both hands on his jaw. “You know, he gave us his blessing the week before he died?” A small smile lit Dorian's features at the incredulous look Kaim gave him. “He changed much in the time of my absence, and I must root out his murderers and continue to support the reformers. We will be together. That I promise you.” 

Kaim gave him a small smile which Dorian claimed with his lips. 

\---

Everyone noticed. It was impossible not to. 

The rate at which the mark spasmed was increasing exponentially, worsening with each one. It wasn't long before he became a liability in combat. A flare up would nearly send him to his knees, making him incapable of using his left dagger hand or even defending himself properly. There wasn't a choice however. He had to simply soldier on. 

The closer they came to the qunari threat the more Kaim realized there was more going on than appeared. The Dread Wolf was at the center of it, Kaim just knew it. And he had an awful suspicion he knew who it was.

Each stop in Halamshiral did little to alleviate his aggravation. In fact it worsened it. More than once he caught himself snapping at the advisors, glaring at nobles, and giving a cross word to any who dared to even look at him wrong. It made for difficult and uncomfortable encounters with strangers and for those who counted themselves his friends as well. On one hand he was the Inquisitor and needed to act with decorum and tact, on the other he was quite literally being torn apart from the inside out, and now had this surprising and unfortunate impending qunari invasion to deal with.

No one knew quite how to act around him, so most kept their distance, praying to whatever god they believed in that he would pull through. Not many held actual hope for this though. Especially not after watching him stagger to his knees, unsure whether to clutch at his chest or his forearm.

Despite it all he pressed on, determined to at least see this threat through to completion. If this continued to worsen the Exalted Council will have been pointless. Kaim would be dead anyway.

The closer they came to unraveling this threat the more volatile it became.

Kaim’s daggers snapped loose from their sheathes and he sprinted to meet the enemy when a shockwave of blinding pain shot up his arm and he screamed. The dagger in his left hand clattered to the ground as he collapsed to his knees, skidding with his momentum, discarding his other dagger to grip his wrist, cries of agony ringing out from the pain. 

The rest of the group surged into action, falling into a defensive circle around Kaim to protect him as they fended off attacks, unnerved by the continuing grunts and wails of pain behind their backs, the mark sparking erratically, spitting green, angry flames. Desperate to relieve the pain, Kaim ripped his glove off and tore the leather wrapping away, revealing the traumatized, green veined flesh. To his utter horror the veins had begun to split, the skin broken and seeping blood from the now gaping wounds running nearly to his elbow. Every vein pulsed with malicious green magic and he growled with each one, shocks stabbing up into his shoulder. 

“Maker’s breath, _Amatus._ ” Dorian collapsed to his knees next to Kaim once the last of the enemies had been dispatched, his hands hovering in abject uselessness as Kaim continued to suffer. After what felt like an eternity the pulses began to subside and the pain receded, allowing Kaim to relax slightly. The pains did not fade completely though. With a tenderness that broke Kaim’s heart, Dorian wrapped his hand carefully with bandages, holding the traumatized flesh together and attempting to staunch the bleeding, though they all knew there wasn’t much to be done. The mark was killing Kaim.

“Dorian, please. If I don’t-” 

“Hush!” Dorian interrupted him quickly. “I love you, more than anything. And we’re going to figure this out. You’ll make it through, I promise. We’ll get answers and fix this. Just hold on a little longer.” 

Sweat beaded on Kaim’s brow, but he nodded sagely, determined to continue on as long as Dorian remained by his side. With him there he could accomplish anything, no matter how difficult. 

They had to assist him in standing, but Kaim regained his footing, though when Sera handed him his daggers the left fell uselessly from his grasp. He was unable to close his fingers around the hilt. 

“It looks like I’ll be fighting one handed for now.” Kaim tried to make light of the situation, but no one was laughing. 

\--- 

Not again! Kaim was barely functioning with that blasted mark eating him alive and now he’d walked through another blasted eluvian. Dorian moved to follow only to run nose first into the glass. It had closed behind Kaim, leaving them separated and Kaim half defenseless. 

No matter what he tried, spells, banging on it, even some creative and choice threats, the mirror would not open. He had no idea what the key was, and did not possess the correct materials to divine what it was. All they could do was wait, with Dorian pacing angrily, hoping and praying it would open again. 

When the blue light flickered, indicating the mirror was active once more, Dorian was through it before Blackwall or Sera could protest. He exited onto a field littered with qunari stone figures, to the sound of Kaim screaming. 

“KAIM!” Dorian sprinted up the hill in time to see Solas glance back one last time at Kaim before stepping through another mirror, the portal closing behind him. Kaim collapsed to his back, gripping his left bicep in agony, his wail of pain continuing. 

And no wonder. 

Falling to his knees, Dorian could only watch in horror as Kaim’s hand dissolved into malevolent green ash, the flesh breaking up and carried away on the breeze, stopping where the veins had been the worst, leaving a stump just above where his elbow had been. A soft sob choked him as he scooped Kaim off the ground, cradling him against his chest, hardly noticing the arrival of their companions over the gasps and whimpers of pain coming from the man in his arms. 

That was one way to solve their problem. 

Dorian pressed his lips to Kaim's sweaty forehead and whispered comforting words as he gently rocked him in his lap, hoping the pain would subside soon. 

Solas had a lot to answer for.

\---

The Inquisition was dissolved, Kaim had resigned as Inquisitor. Cassandra and Josephine were to take care of the Inquisition’s resources, and Leliana had something up her sleeve, claiming they would meet later in Haven, away from prying eyes. 

Dorian stood beside Kaim, staring out at the magnificent view laid before them, his fingers laced with Kaim’s. 

“I leave for Tevinter tomorrow morning, and I will not be returning,” he said quietly. 

Kaim spun to stare at him, eyes wide. “You still are? But-but I thought…” 

“You know I have to. There’s no choice in this. I’m a magister now; I’ve taken my father’s seat and there’s much work to be done-” 

“Then I’ll come with you!” Kaim’s grip on Dorian’s hand was strong enough to almost make him wince.

“ _Amatus_ , you can’t. The last time the Venatori got their hands on you they tried cutting you open. If I am in the senate every day I cannot keep you safe. Tevinter is the last place you should be. No, you will remain here, and I have something for you-” Kaim yanked his hand away, surprising Dorian.

“You’re giving up on us? Now?!” A sickening realization dawned on Kaim. “I lose the Inquisition, I lose my arm, I’m broken and no longer perfect, so now you throw me away like everyone else. It just took you longer.” Kaim had resolved to destroy anything that stood between him and Dorian, but now it was Dorian himself standing between them. Conflict warred in his mind, tearing him apart.

Dorian’s eyes flew wide. “No! _Amatus_ , just listen! I have-”

“Don’t call me that!” Kaim shoved him away with his remaining arm, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. “When I need you _most_ you’re going to leave me! I can’t fight, I can’t even-” his voice broke. “I can’t even dress myself properly. I could come with you, but you won’t accept that, because you never intended to! I’m b-broken and you don’t w-want me anymore!” He was choking back sobs, his whole body shaking. Dorian attempted to close the distance only to be repelled more forcefully this time. Kaim shoved him so hard he stumbled backward a step. 

“Will you listen to me-” Dorian tried again.

“I don’t blame you,” Kaim whispered suddenly, his shoulders bowing in defeat. “I wouldn’t want me either.” With that he whirled and ran, ebony hair streaming behind him. 

“Kaim! Wait! Kaim, listen!” Dorian shouted and ran after him. Kaim barreled through the streets, bumping into people and shoving his way past, slipping through more easily than Dorian was able to. He was broken beyond repair. After everything that had happened to him, he was used, cast aside, betrayed, and now his greatest fear had come to life. The only things he’d had left were his perfect form, his dancing, and Dorian. Now he’d lost all three in one fell swoop.

Tears blurred his vision but he ran on, pushing himself faster. He couldn’t see the rejection in Dorian’s face, hear the words. It would break him entirely. There would be nothing left and he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was safer to run.

As he ran he tore at the aggravating silk sash, tossing it away when the fabric finally ripped. Next came the high collared monstrosity, the buttons and clasps flying in his haste to rid himself of the offending garment. He wasn’t anything anymore. There was no need for all these trappings. 

Dorian used the discarded cloth as a means of following him after he vanished from sight, until there was no trail left to follow. He was left standing in the street, alone, his heart shattered into pieces around him, tears leaving dark tracks down his cheeks.

“That wasn’t what I meant at all, _Amatus_.” With a heartbroken sob he sank to his knees, burying his face in his palms. “You didn’t let me finish.”

\---


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of the chapter, as you can probably tell, this was a difficult one to write. Although it WAS absolutely fun! =3 I hope you all enjoy the new twist as much as I have been. One more chapter to go, my lovelies!  
> Once again, thank you so much to @Valka for her endless support and awesome beta-ing! <3
> 
> \---

“I have nothing left.” Those were the first words out of Kaim’s mouth when he finally wandered into Haven weeks later dirty, bedraggled, half starved, and despondent. Immediately Leliana went to work feeding and caring for him, but there was much for her to do and she couldn’t dote on him hand and foot. Sera, who had been attempting to use her network to find him without success, was immediately back in Haven the moment she heard he was there.

It didn’t matter what anyone said; he’d lost the two things that meant most to him -his dancing and Dorian- and nothing could convince him otherwise. Sera worried he was one bout of depression from taking his own life and stayed by his side as much as was possible. Truth be told, she wasn’t far off.

Dorian had been forced to leave for Tevinter not long after Kaim’s disappearance, staying as long as he could in the hopes Kaim would return with no luck. As a result he left the communicating crystal with Leliana, hoping she would see him before anyone else. If anyone was going to find him it would be her. The moment Kaim seemed somewhat stable she gave it to him, insisting that Dorian desired greatly to speak with him and that he should consider it. 

Time was meaningless to Kaim as he sat in a darkened corner, holding the crystal in his hand and staring at it. Periodically it warmed and glowed softly, indicating Dorian was attempting to make contact, but Kaim didn’t move. He continued simply gazing at it.

When Sera finally insisted that if he wasn’t going to use the damn thing that he put it away and come eat some food he hesitantly slipped the chain around his neck and tucked it into his tunic, finding it rested snugly against his chest, next to his heart. Every now and then he could feel it warm against his cool skin.

Letter after letter arrived for him, most of them from Dorian, none of which he opened. Leliana sent word back to Dorian that he wasn’t opening the letters. One came from Varric that reminded him of his estate in Kirkwall, and that Dorian had taken the liberty of having all his belongings from Skyhold transferred there, as well as a large gift that Dorian had wanted him to see as early as possible. 

Kaim burned the letter after reading it. He had no use for material things anymore.

There was nothing for him here or in Kirkwall. It was the same overwhelming feeling he’d had on the road from Tevinter, only worse. He had no direction, no orders, no purpose. His entire life had been dictated by someone else, willingly or not. For the first time in his life he was truly free. It was scary and he didn’t like it. Now he was broken. No one would even want him. 

Perhaps he could work for Leliana, gathering intel, acting as one of her spies, but his face was so widely known. It would make spying difficult. That and fighting. Just thinking about battle spiked his anxiety and set his heart pounding. He couldn’t do it, not one handed. Just like with dancing he’d lost all grace. He was an incomplete tool, of no use to anyone. It was almost worse than being _used_. Almost.

Restless, he climbed the walls in his frustration, wandering Haven aimlessly. If it weren’t for Sera, he would have completely forgotten to eat or care for himself. Somedays she even dressed him. He saw through the brave face she put on with her clucking tongue and chiding remarks. He was a burden. He could see the worry that lined her eyes. He loved Sera; she was the sister he never had, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

As time passed his desperation and doubt mounted until he thought he might go mad. What purpose did he serve? They tried to give him things to do, but he felt so useless. Sera offered him a position in her network, but he faced the same problems there that he did with Leliana. 

No, he needed to have closure. He needed to finish the conversation he’d interrupted. He _needed_ to speak to Dorian. His purpose laid with Dorian. If Dorian no longer had a use for him, well, there was always a pier nearby he could walk off of.

\---

It was an achingly familiar road, simply in reverse. He had no idea what he was doing or how he was going to go about doing it. All he knew was that what was left of his heart was in Tevinter. 

Damn him. Damn Dorian. After their parting in the streets of Halamshiral they hadn’t spoken. It had been over a month. The crystal glowed warmly beneath his tunic, signaling that Dorian was attempting to contact him for what had to be in the hundreds of times now. Kaim couldn’t answer. Couldn’t bring himself to talk to Dorian over a crystal. Whatever happened, he needed to speak to Dorian face to face. 

His earlier fear and cowardice had led to doubt and frustration. Dorian had called out to him, hadn't he? If he'd been leaving him wouldn't just letting Kaim go be easier than continuing to talk? Allowing Kaim to slip away and the relationship to break would be easier than talking it out. Guilt plagued him, what if-

But that was too painful to hope for. No one would want a used up, broken, worthless elf like him. At least before he'd been useful. He could fight and dance. Now he could hardly dress himself and his poor hair was in a sorry state. He wasn't beautiful anymore so what could Dorian possibly see in him worth keeping? But he had to know. He had to hear it for sure, even if it broke him. 

And so, he found himself back on the Imperial Highway, this time headed toward Tevinter.

The ring of steel drew his attention and he glanced around, attempting to ascertain the source. It sounded like quite the battle was raging down the hill, hidden by a copse of trees.

There, in a small clearing, a lone elf faced off against a rather large contingent of venatori, his massive two-handed sword cutting impressive arcs in the glittering afternoon sun. Venatori? Bloodlust, a feeling he'd not realized he missed so keenly, welled within him and his trepidation over fighting one handed melted away. 

The fight. That was all that mattered. 

With wild abandon he leapt into the fray, his one wicked dagger cutting a swath not quite as impressive as the white haired elf, but nearly as deadly. It didn't take long to find his balance with his missing arm, Kaim realizing he could still flip and slash with the best of them, using the remainder of his left arm as support. 

With two of them the venatori fell quickly, somewhat disappointing Kaim. _Stars above_ , he had missed this! It was almost impossible to suppress his grin as he bent to clean his dagger on one of the dead men’s robes.

“Well, aren’t you _handy_ ,” the odd looking elf drawled as he hefted his massive two handed sword onto his shoulder and turned to regard Kaim with glittering green eyes. Clearly the pun had been intended. Despite his flippant tone his expression was guarded.

Kaim eyed the tattooed elf in return, wondering why he seemed familiar. He was positive they'd never met. After a moment everything fell into place. “You’re Fenris! Hawke’s friend!” 

Fenris studied him more closely. “Aye.” His eyes trailed the rather obvious stump of Kaim’s arm. “And unless I’m mistaken, you must be Inquisitor Kaim Lavellan. The one responsible for leaving him in the fade.” His words curled into a snarl.

“Not Inquisitor and not Lavellan. It’s just Kaim now. And you know damn well that once Hawke made his mind up about something there wasn’t a thrice cursed thing you could do about it. He practically picked me up and threw me through the rift.” Kaim moved to cross his arms, his stump brushing through the spot where his elbow should have gone and he frowned, allowing his arms to drop awkwardly back to his sides instead.

A soft snort escaped Fenris. “Don’t I know it. The man was impossible.” Fenris eyed the missing limb again. “Troubles adjusting?”

Kaim shrugged before resting his only hand on the hilt of his dagger. “Yeah. Little bit.” For a moment he refused to meet Fenris’s gaze, ears burning, cursing himself for looking so foolish. 

“Why not Lavellan? You give up trying to be anything but Tevinter?” Fenris dropped the sword and stuck the point into the ground, leaning on the guard. Kaim's embarrassment over his awkwardness regarding his amputation did not go unnoticed, but he let the subject drop anyway.

All the memories of living with the Dalish came flooding back to Kaim, crafting with the hahren, hunting with Tamsas, sharing stories with the Keeper. A frown creased his face. “I’m not Lavellan because they’ve all been wiped out. My clan doesn’t exist any longer.” 

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to bring up an uncomfortable subject. What are you doing way out here, if you don’t mind my asking?” Fenris wiped his brow with the palm of his hand.

“I’m-” he paused, “well, I _was_ headed to speak with someone in Minrathous, but the longer I’m on the road, the less I know what I’m going to say. We didn’t...part on the best of terms.” Another frown pulled at Kaim’s face and he gazed despairingly in the direction of the road. What was he doing here? There was no way Dorian would forgive him after his treatment. He’d probably already moved on. It was entirely possible that was why he kept trying to contact him, to let him know it was over. 

“Long trip for a talk you’re not even sure about.” Fenris considered him shrewdly a moment. He knew a good fighter when he saw one, missing limb or no. And he felt his own listlessness mirrored in Kaim, the lack of direction a former slave experienced. “Tell you what. I’m headed into the heart of Tevinter anyway, eradicating Venatori along the way. I know from your reputation you’ve likely killed as many of them as I, perhaps more. Let us revel in blood together as we travel. You look like you need it. And once we reach Minrathous if you decide to break away and go see your...friend, you may feel free to do so. If not, I welcome your company in erasing every Venatori and evil magister from the face of Thedas.” A feral grin lit the tattooed elf’s face.

Kaim studied him a moment. “From what I’ve heard you believe them all to be evil.” He wanted nothing to do with someone who might wish Dorian harm, and he didn’t want to have to kill Fenris, but he would if he so much as breathed in Dorian’s direction.

Fenris shook his head, his fluffy white hair bouncing with the motion. “If there’s anything Hawke taught me, it is that stereotypes are for the ignorant. And ignorant I may once have been, but not anymore. I understand many magisters have joined the reformist movement in Tevinter. They are in need of protection, many have been assassinated, or had attempts made on their lives and holdings. I seek to level the playing field. And I have a long way to go.” He hefted his great sword and clipped it onto his shoulder harness. 

Ideas sped through Kaim’s mind. “I take it slavers are high on that list of ‘to kill’ targets?” His eyes narrowed in eagerness, a dangerous glint entering them.

“Naturally.” Fenris gave him a cocky grin, recognizing Kaim’s walls were coming down more readily than he’d thought possible. 

“I have one target in particular that I’d like to... _eradicate_ first, if you don’t mind making a stop?” Kaim’s blood began to buzz in anticipation, the scars on his neck, wrists, and ankles itching in his excitement, all thoughts of Dorian flown from his mind. This was an opportunity, one that could not possibly be ignored. Revenge burned hot in his veins and he felt more alive than he had in months. _This_ , he could do this. _This_ was purpose. This was _his_ purpose.

A slow grin spread across Fenris’s face. Kaim’s past had become common knowledge, though not all the sordid details. It was widely known, however, that Kaim had been owned by someone brutal prior to his purchase by the Pavus household, and that was likely who he had in mind. Fenris could already see the blossoming partnership between them. 

“I will follow your lead.”

\---

It didn't take Kaim long to hunt down the residence of the retired magister with the cold blue eyes and the scar on his nose. Caelus Frigidian, the one who had left the marks on his neck and limbs. The one who'd humiliated him, stolen his innocence, and used him like he'd been a piece of meat and nothing more. The man who had tried to break him.

It was not quick. It was not merciful. 

In ruthless and brutal efficiency they assaulted the estate by the front door itself, killing all the guards, freeing the slaves, and laying waste to anything they could get their hands on. Their attack had been so brutal and out of the blue that none of the guards or mages within the household were able to mount any credible defense, falling prey to wickedly flashing blades. 

The main house Kaim had no memory of, but the lower halls, the rooms where the slaves were kept, those he knew. Kaim’s skin crawled upon stepping foot into them once again. The magister was supposedly retired but apparently old habits died hard. Kaim was entirely unsurprised at the condition some of the slaves had been in when they were freed, but Fenris made a disgusted face, his own blood boiling as realization dawned on him that Kaim had likely suffered similarly.

They found him holed up in one of the rooms he used for such purposes, sniveling and wretched, acting the part of the infirm old man. But Kaim wasn’t fooled. One glance at those cold blue eyes and Kaim remembered, recognized the sharp edge in them still and he snarled. Seizing his collar, Kaim dragged him, unerringly hauling the struggling man to the room he remembered particularly well. After all, he spent over two horrible weeks in there. 

Now Fenris stood watch outside the door while Kaim took his time with his prey, listening to the screams, the muffled cries for mercy, the bargaining for his life. 

And Kaim made damn sure the man remembered who he was before he started.

Kaim had been rather tight lipped but Fenris understood. He had recognized the name and instantly felt empathy and kinship with Kaim and what he’d endured. No, he had never suffered at this particular magister’s hands, but he’d heard the stories and had now seen the evidence. It was enough to make him ill. They all knew. Slaves liked to talk, gossip being one of their few venues of entertainment. The stories of Caelus Frigidian were enough to make the blood run cold in your veins. And after what Fenris had suffered under Danarius’s _loving care_ he could only imagine the horrors Kaim had survived. There was solidarity in their suffering.

Anyone else standing outside that room, listening to the sickening gurgling would have been repulsed, would have been appalled by Kaim's actions. But not Fenris. There wasn’t enough pain in this world that they could possibly inflict that would make any of the travesties visited on them right. There wasn’t enough blood in all of Tevinter to bring back their innocence and pride, to heal the scars, to soothe the nightmares.

But they could forge their own anew; together.

They would bring a black tide across Tevinter like none that had been seen before. Slaves would whisper their names in reverence, magisters would shake in fear. Fenris never got the chance to enact his revenge from Danarius’s worthless hide the way Kaim was now able. But hearing those cries almost made it better. And there would be many more screams to come before they were finished. Tevinter’s cleansing was just beginning.

Fenris smiled. 

\---

Dorian threw the letter down in frustration. Kaim was missing. 

Several letters had arrived stating Kaim was nowhere to be found, that he'd never even stepped foot in his estate in Kirkwall, and Sera was so livid she'd actually written a letter of her own. Complete with doodles in the margins. Apparently Kaim had simply walked out the door when no one was looking and vanished. 

To be fair, Dorian knew that frustration. Kaim had disappeared on him more than once. But this felt different; the letters carried an undertone of worry. They legitimately feared for Kaim's mental state. More than once Leliana had written comments on Kaim's obsession with Dorian, his fixation on him, his inability to see worth in himself outside of Dorian. 

Frankly, that was Dorian's fault, and he fully admitted to it. Their lives had become so intertwined from age sixteen on that Kaim had literally become dependent on Dorian for his own value and neither of them had seen it until it was much too late. The very thing Dorian had tried to avoid had manifested in the worst way.

Then to top that mess off he'd handled telling Kaim -or rather NOT telling Kaim- about the eluvians horribly. He should have been open about it, instead he'd hidden it as a surprise. Little did he realize how truly devastated by the final events in Halamshiral Kaim had been. 

Dorian shook his head and crossed to the fireplace, leaning his arm on the mantle. What a fool he'd been. He should have known how Kaim would take it, that all he'd see was the negative. After all the poor thing had just lost his arm, a father figure betrayed him, then Dorian announced he was leaving. How was he to take that? If only he'd started with the eluvians instead. The one now sitting useless in Kaim's estate in Kirkwall.

The door burst open to reveal his manservant, completely out of breath. 

“Magister Pavus-!” 

“Come now, calm yourself, take a deep breath Deckland. And you know you're to call me Dorian.” This was a continuing struggle with his servants. The Pavus household had purchased the freedom of every slave on the premises and they now earned a more than honest wage. He crossed the room and attempted to lead the panting man to the sofa. 

“No no, your lordship, you don't understand. I just received word that you're under suspicion for murder!” He finally managed, refusing the offer to sit. 

“Murder? What in the blazes-?” 

“The magister you've been investigating for brutality to slaves? Caelus Frigidian? He was found in his home this morning, his slaves gone, the remaining guards slaughtered, and he was assassinated in the lower halls. I have the report right here.” He held out a few papers. “But I must caution you, the description is macabre.” 

“Deckland, I saw enough corpses during my time in Ferelden to last a lifetime, and I'm a _necromancer_! Besides, didn't you say he was assassinated? A poisoned dagger? Poison in his drink? Garrotte?” He opened the report and perused it quickly, eyes widening in horror with each line. 

“This wasn't an assassination, this was revenge. Tevinter interrogation techniques used for torture. And he didn't die quickly.” Cold, hard dread settled in Dorian's stomach. 

_Kaim_. 

Kaim had to be in Tevinter. The descriptions of the wounds were too consistent with Kaim's style, though he was a Tevinter assassin and Dorian supposed any other may have been similar. But it was a gut feeling he couldn't shake and the ache in his chest became a stabbing pain. Not only that, but this was clearly done with a personal agenda, a violent one.

Kaim was here. And he had _not_ come to see Dorian. 

\---

Following their attack on the magister’s mansion they retreated to the outskirts of Minrathous until things cooled down. The slaves had been so grateful that a few insisted on following them, bringing their group to four. A fiery redheaded young female elf named Perth and a tall stocky young elf man named Shass. Of those that volunteered only the two of them seemed hardy enough to handle the road they had in mind. 

They sheltered in the poorer rundown back alleys of Minrathous that none of the magisters acknowledged. Fenris watched Kaim hook his hand on his dagger hilt, his mind running over their previous scuffle and Kaim’s style of fighting. A slow smile spread across his face. He knew just what Kaim needed.

“You, my friend, are in need of a new weapon,” he told him quietly as he came alongside, gesturing down at the one dagger strapped to his hip. 

“A new weapon? Daggers are all I’ve ever used.” Anxiety and worry reflected in his eyes as he turned his head up to regard Fenris.

Fluffy silver hair bounced as he nodded. “Indeed, but your situation has changed and thus your weapon of choice must change. You are incapable of dual wielding daggers.” 

A flush of embarrassment and in equal measure frustration and anger flashed across Kaim’s cheeks, but he couldn’t deny the truth of Fenris’s words. And after the tiptoeing and pandering of his friends, though he knew they meant well, it was refreshing to hear bald honesty, despite the fact that it hurt. Especially since he was right.

“You may be correct. Did you have an idea in mind?” 

An excited grin split Fenris’ face. “I do.” 

They left the two newcomers in the city, bidding them keep their ears to the ground while they left on a few day’s march, headed for a particular smith near Nevarra. Along the way Fenris told him of the weapon he envisioned for him, that it was Anderfels in origin and not widely known or used due to its high probability of injuring the user. It required someone with dexterity, fearlessness and grace. All of which, he told him, Kaim had in spades. It was gratifying to hear himself so described, and Kaim felt his spirits lifting significantly as they traveled, still riding the high of his revenge. 

The smith was resistant and grating as blacksmiths are wont to be, but a small demonstration of Kaim’s skill was enough to convince him that yes indeed Kaim could wield such a weapon. As such, he set to work immediately, forging a brand new weapon for Kaim.

It was everything Fenris had described to him and more. On first glance it was a simple weapon, deceiving in appearance. The handle looked much like a dagger hilt, wrapped in leather with a pommel on the back end. Attached where the blade should be was what appeared to be a whip. It hung long enough that it dragged the ground a short distance behind Kaim if he walked with it unfurled, but one flick of the whip left no doubt in anyone’s mind that it was not leather at all but a blade. The metal was specially treated and folded to give it flexibility and malleability, allowing it to bend and twist as a whip would. Used as a whip the blades were not sharpened in the manner of a dagger, instead honed to allow cutting with the force of the swing, not merely contact with the edge, as such it allowed Kaim to wrap the weapon around a leather clad arm for a way to put it away quickly. Otherwise it was coiled just as a whip and clipped onto his belt. 

Their next stop was to the armorer. Kaim would need heavier leather on his arms and boots; his reflexes were not infallible. The heavier leather also allowed him to manipulate the blade while in use without fear of cutting himself open. It was entirely a one handed weapon. It gave him reach, and to watch it in use was to watch an expert dancer with a ribbon as his apparatus, a bladed ribbon.

He had the missing arm to continue to contend with, but with this new weapon Kaim felt as though reborn. Only a short period of practice with it was enough to bring his dancer’s instincts to the surface, along with a surge of pride and adrenaline. It would take some time to fully master its use of course, but he was willing to spend the time, he had the patience of an assassin after all. 

How good it felt to be useful again! He felt worthwhile once more, as though he could reclaim his life, not be some weighty burden on everyone’s shoulders. And he had purpose. His eyes danced to Fenris and found his infectious smile returned and more. _Fenris_ had made him feel useful again. _Fenris_ had made him feel worthwhile again. He knew what Kaim had been through without having to say it. They were kindred, alike in so many ways. Words were often unnecessary between them, just a glance and the other knew, they felt, the pain was shared. And now Fenris shared in his victory, had made it possible. 

_Fenris_ had given him a part of his soul back.

\---

The doors to the Livianus mansion shattered inward. 

Screams and shouts accompanied the black robed figure striding through the now sundered grand entrance. Guards rushed forward to put down the threat. With one smooth, fluid movement the figure drew a massive, two-handed great sword and sliced a graceful arc, disemboweling some and knocking others flat, bowling them over like pins in a lawn game.

The cowl fell back revealing silver hair as several venatori mages burst in from a side door, immediately set to casting. White fangs flashed moments before elegant, curving brands flickered to life, and he was simply no longer there. Their casting came to an abrupt halt, the venatori glancing at one another in confused shock. That shock deeped when the chest of the one in the center exploded outward in a crimson fan, swordpoint sticking through the cloth armor. He was tossed like a ragdoll as they regained their senses and moved to counterattack. His sword flashed in massive arcs, limbs falling like confetti, screams continuing as violent red spattered the floor and walls. 

More guards poured in, Fenris flashed, his whole body shimmering and vanishing, reappearing on their flank, crimson glinting blade sweeping in a grand swath of death, cutting them down before they had a chance to react. Brutal, efficient, with no chance for counter. 

“Slaves,” Fenris called to the huddled, trembling creatures, still wearing their collars. “You are freed. Gather outside by the garden gate. We will remove your bond and set you on the path to a new life.” 

“How dare you! You will do no such thing!” 

Magister Gallio Livianus himself hurried down the marble stairs in his silken bathrobe, a scandalized expression on his wizened features. “Who dares-!” His exclamation was cut off by the lash of a silver ribbon as it flicked out from the shadows of the marble statues that lined the stairs and wrapped around the thin, wrinkled throat. Both the magister’s hands flew to the offending whip, wheezing in pain when he gripped the silver only to jerk his hand back, slick with blood pouring from a fresh cut in his pam. A dark gargoyle sat perched in the alcove, pulling the whip tight. With hands and voice busy, Gallio was unable to cast magic.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The figure crawled forward and into the light. “You should have hidden your venatori connections a little better, Gallio.” A wicked grin lit Kaim’s face. “So sayeth the Herald of Andraste.” Kaim jerked his hand, yanking the whip hard, slicing through his flesh like butter. The magister collapsed, gasping like a fish out of water, his throat sliced through, pouring crimson rivulets down the pristine white stairs. “Hmmm.” Kaim considered the weapon and the current state of Gallio. The ribboned blade still wrapped his throat, lodged most of the way through the flesh. “I’ll need to work on this technique.” He gave Fenris a feral smile before yanking hard, severing the magister’s spine and cutting fully through the tendon and bone, the head bouncing jovially down the stairs, leaving pats of blood the entire way. 

Fenris dragged his blade along the soft robes of the magister to clean it before clipping it onto his harness. “Effective. Eloquent.” He gazed back along the trail of blood down the stairs before turning to Kaim with an equally feral grin. “I like it. There’s a certain artistry to it.” 

Kaim leapt down and swept a bow, the remainder of his left arm, safely ensconced in a protective leather wrapping crossed across his body. “I aim to please. Not everyone of course.” He kicked at the magister’s corpse with a grin. 

A sound drew their attention and Fenris glanced over his shoulder. “More guards to deal with, then the slaves and I’ll call this a magnificent first forray into our partnership together.” 

The guards burst into the main hall. Kaim and Fenris each danced a different direction. Fenris faded from sight and Kaim somersaulted with incredible speed across the space, leaving their new adversaries bewildered. They’d never seen anyone move like these two before. Kaim and Fenris worked in consort with one another, though entirely separated. They were two dancers atop their stage of slaughter, each in a different medium, Fenris’s ponderous but vicious swings and flashing lyrium, Kaim’s faster than lightning acrobatics and wickedly flicking whip. Adrenaline pumped through them, the effect like a drug to their systems, granting euphoria as they rode a high of blood soaked righteousness.

And as the bodies lay cooling at their booted feet, the silence stalled by their heavy breaths, they grinned at one another over newly poured lakes of crimson, their bond solidifying further.

\---

“We must move quickly.” Fenris was at the head of the human chain darting through the darkened backstreets of Minrathous. “Keep your heads low and do not stop.” With their collars and enchanted rings removed the slaves of house Livianus were now free, but they were far from safe. Being an escaped slave in Tevinter was a death sentence and Fenris was determined to get them all out to true freedom. 

High above on the rooftops, shrouded in shadow, Kaim lurked like a prowling cat, following their progress and watching for signs of danger. With his reflexes it was easy to traverse the ledges and angles, leaping from perch to perch, turquoise eyes narrowed as he scanned for movement in the dim predawn light.

Below Fenris counted heads as he bustled them along, leading them to the underground. Many houses in Tevinter supported the abolishment of slavery, a few of them stepping forward boldly to aid in the effort to free them. They were headed to one such safe haven, a house on the edge of noble territory and the ramshackle section of Minrathous, where a tunnel had been secretly constructed to allow safe and invisible passage into the sewers. There freed slaves could then follow the imperceptible signs under and out of the city. Sovereigns, a change of clothes, and parcels of food were also handed out, funded by other noble houses wishing to give aid but without the convenient means to do so.

Perth melted out of the darkness, fiery curls glinting softly in the dim light as she opened a nearly invisible door in the otherwise concrete base of a large mansion. “Through here,” she whispered. Shass covered the gaps in the alleyways as the chain of freed slaves passed while Kaim finished patrolling and slipped down the side of a building to the alley behind them, careful to remain completely silent. Once that door closed behind them their job would be done, leaving the former slaves in the capable hands of the noble who would equip them and lead them to freedom outside of Tevinter.

Despite it all, they still shivered in fear as they passed Fenris, his face an impassive and imposing mask. One woman stopped and hugged Perth. “Andraste bless and guide you all,” she whispered before disappearing into the darkened opening. When the last of the slaves disappeared Fenris and Shass closed the heavy door softly so as not to draw attention. The foursome made their way across the city, headed for their ramshackle hideout in the slums of Minrathous, cloaks pulled close. 

Kaim peeked up from his hood and found Fenris’s emerald eyes resting on him, glimmering in the soft light of the rising sun, a smile dancing on his lips. Their headlong plunge into vigilante life together was a resounding success, and Kaim couldn’t stop grinning in return. 

\---

“Two hits in two nights?” Shass asked in bewilderment, rubbing his hand through his short brown hair before scratching at his scarred ear. The sweep of his left ear was cut short in a jarring and ugly jagged edge, leaving it half the length of the other, a gift from his former master.

Perth’s pale blue eyes burned fiercely. “If we could destroy one of them every single night I would happily do so,” she spat before taking a sip of her water, digging back into their meager meal of bread and dried meat. 

“Caelus Frigidian’s holdings were outside the city, but Gallio Livianus strikes right at their hearts, here in the city where they’re supposed to feel safe.” Fenris sat crouched on his chair in lieu of sitting, knees up near his shoulders, arms between them, as he nibbled on his own meal. “It would be beneficial to move quickly. The magisters and the Senate will still be reeling from such a vicious attack at one inside Minrathous proper. The guard will have been diverted to that area scouring for clues. An attack on the opposite side of the city would be our best bet.” 

Kaim nodded in agreement. “They won’t be expecting it so soon. Then immediately after we go to ground for a few days, let the heat blow over, and plan our next attack.” 

“Spoken like a true assassin,” Fenris teased, pushing Kaim’s head with one hand. Kaim smiled impishly. How he had missed this, the camaraderie, the planning, the desperate fighting. He missed the Inquisition and his friends badly. But this was shaping up to be a magnificent replacement, and he couldn’t be happier to feel useful once more. It just meant ignoring the cold vice that had begun to tighten around his heart and stomach, growing tighter with each warm pulse of that cursed crystal around his neck.

The following night Perth and Shass patrolled the outer perimeter of the estate to ensure no guards escaped and no city patrolmen caught wind of the activities within. The details of their attacks were not yet common knowledge, so they repeated the tactics of before, assaulting the front gate and door of the lavish mansion. With the city on edge the guards were much quicker to respond than the two previous attacks. 

Rather than lie in wait Kaim joined Fenris almost immediately, the two of them painting the main entry in crimson side by side. The meagerly trained guards were no match for their combined grace and skill, though the mages of the house proved little better. 

The lady of the house was decidedly more cunning than the nobles who'd fallen previous nights. Statia Leon, a beautiful woman in her late forties made her appearance with a roar of magical fire that took both elves completely by surprise, casting from the shadows across the hall and up the balcony. 

Fenris’s call of warning came too late and Kaim was engulfed in searing heat, barely given enough time to shield his face with his cloak. The flames battered and buffeted him, and to his intense shock did not burn. This took her by surprise as well, staring in disbelief before retreating into the shadows of the hall even as Fenris scaled the balcony to reach her. 

When Kaim finally succeeded the balcony Fenris was returning, blade newly coated in blood, a smirk on his handsome features. “Another success, my friend. We have but to sweep the house for any remaining resistance and assist the slaves. We must move quickly however. The city's guard will be more apt to respond quickly in the wake of our other attacks.” 

Kaim nodded sagely and they moved out, gathering the slaves and putting down any guards they encountered. 

As far as Kaim remembered he was not immune to magical fire. He considered his new armor and enchantments. Yes, his gear was tailored with resistances, but not enough to protect from the splash of fire like that. The crystal warmed against his skin and he glanced down, placing his hand over it through his armor, pressing it against his skin. 

_Dorian_. 

The crystal had clearly been enchanted with powerful magic, not just for communication. Even now Dorian was protecting him, even if he wasn't here to cast a barrier around him. Tears pricked Kaim's eyes, the reason he'd come to Minrathous in the first place surfacing in his mind, bringing with it the yawning void and pain. 

No. His eyes focused on Fenris walking ahead of him, speaking quietly with the slaves and gathering them into a group to escape to safety. This was his new purpose. He belonged here. There was so much good they were accomplishing. Look at how many slaves they'd freed already, and they'd only just begun! 

Steeling his mind, he carefully buried his emotions, gently shrouding the majority of his heart that still did and always would belong to Dorian behind a protective barrier. It was carefully packaged away, submerged beneath the hate and blood that consumed his new life, this new life that Fenris had breathed into him. Dorian was part of his old life but he had a new one now. He would move on, as Dorian had.

Two more dedicated themselves to their cause. A young human woman by the name of Faygin and her lover, an elf woman who went by Cyhan. On returning to their small hideout, just as dawn's light touched the skies, they began to realize that if their group continued to grow they would need a new base of operations. 

“I will send out a request through my network for information come nightfall. There are a few noble houses with private entrances to catacombs beneath their estates that might make a suitable replacement,” Fenris informed them. “They are also more centrally located and will make travel about the city easier. Finding a noble family willing to house us may be a little difficult, however. Pledging money is one thing. Allowing the resistance to operate under their roof is another. But with patience, I'm sure we will find someone amenable.” 

Every head crowded around nodded, but Fenris was focused on the ebony hair of his partner. Kaim had been much more withdrawn in the wake of the noblewoman’s attack. 

Once the morning meal had been passed out and sleeping spots assigned Fenris moved closer to Kaim's perch, settling down next to him. “Resolve shaken by such a near escape?” 

Kaim glanced up in surprise. “Oh. No. Though it was indeed a near escape. The attack would surely have killed me under normal circumstances.” 

“But,” Fenris paused, shifting into a more comfortable position, leaning back and regarding Kaim with glittering emerald eyes, “you have a token that saved you. A gift from the one you had originally come to speak to.” 

Honestly Kaim shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. 

“I have not seen it. You hide it well. But there are occasions I notice your fingers closed around what I can only assume is a pendant that lies against your breast beneath your armor.” He cocked his head, studying Kaim. “You do not have to stay. You have been more than helpful in assisting me. We now have the beginnings of a powerful resistance.” He held his hand out meaningfully toward their small gathering of followers. 

“No.” Kaim's resolve hardened. “I have not felt this useful, this satisfied in a path since losing my arm. Yes,” he paused, placing a hand over the crystal through his armor, “this was a gift from him. And though he is still with me through the protection it appears to provide, that time has passed.” 

Fenris studied him a moment, convinced Kaim didn't truly believe those words, but the explanation satisfied him enough. Kaim's relationship with the newly appointed Magister Pavus was widely known. As was how powerful he is. Enchanting such an amulet would not be beyond him, in fact it was likely child's play for him. Fenris also knew him to be a staunch supporter of the abolition of slavery and an ally of Magister Tilani. 

Fenris made a mental note to avoid both of them as contacts.

“As sad a tale as that is, I cannot deny that hearing you will be staying fills me with happiness.” The sidelong look he gave Kaim was unreadable despite his small smile. 

Kaim blinked. “Really?” His candor was surprising. 

“Indeed. Working with you has made me realize how much I've missed a competent and skilled partner. But it's much more than that. We've both endured similar indiscretions and horrors. We understand one another. Even with Hawke that was always something that separated us. He wanted to know, and I didn't want to or couldn't talk about it.” 

Kaim nodded, staring off into the distance. “I know what you mean. Explaining my past to Dorian was painful to say the least. And he's Tevinter born, so it's not like these inhumane acts are entirely surprising.” 

“But with you, it is much different.” Fenris smiled and leaned against the wall, resting his shoulder against Kaim's. “I have felt comfortable with you from the start.” 

“The feeling is mutual.” Kaim watched him a moment before settling back himself, resting his weight against Fenris’s shoulder in turn, both companionably watching over their new followers as they rested. 

\---

 

A thick report slapped onto the smooth surface of Dorian’s desk and he looked up to find Maevaris standing there. “Your husband is becoming a problem. Three magisters dead. Yes, they had firm ties to the venatori, but this isn’t the way to solve Tevinter’s problems.” 

“There’s no proof this is Kaim.” Ignoring the husband comment, Dorian snatched up the report and flipped it open, perusing it quickly. “Especially in light of this. One of them used a two-handed greatsword and the other a whip?” His grey eyes narrowed and he glanced up, raising an eyebrow at Maevaris. 

“Actually, there is.” She delicately slipped into one of the plush chairs by his desk, crossing her ankles under her silk skirts. Despite her poised appearance Maevaris was not a woman to trifle with lightly. “Fortunately the proof is well beyond the reach of the Senate. A slave reported in prior to fleeing Minrathous, detailing a dark skinned elf with white lyrium brands wielding a two-handed greatsword who seemed to have teleportation abilities.” 

“That would be Fenris, Danarius’s former slave, not-” 

“And his partner was a ponytail wearing, ebon haired, tiny elf with blue branches tattooed under his turquoise eyes, missing a left arm.” She gave him a deadpan look that dared him to argue. Dorian had talked about his damn love interest to her enough, practically making her sick with his gooey descriptions, that she knew what he looked like without having ever met him. 

“Conceded.” Dorian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But,” he opened the report and read it again, “a bladed whip? He’s never wielded such a thing prior. He was always an assassin using daggers.” 

“Far be it for me to judge, but wouldn’t it be difficult to continue dual wielding daggers with only one hand?” She leaned her cheek on one perfectly trimmed hand and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Again, conceded. It must be something new he picked up along the way.” Thoughts filtered through his mind regarding how amazing Kaim must look dancing with a bladed ribbon. Now he wished Kaim had used such weapon before he left the Inquisition. “I don’t understand. From every message I received from his advisors, Kaim was in a depressed state after I left. He was practically inconsolable. And now he’s cutting through venatori like a gardener through weeds?”

“And freeing their slaves into the underground. Admittedly, he and this Fenris are doing admirable work, but this will only set the pro-slavery houses up in arms, blaming _us_ for these killings. It’s hurting our position, especially without someone on which to place the blame.” The look Dorian gave her was telling. “I understand, trust me. I want nothing more than for this to be resolved quietly, peacefully, and preferably with Kaim’s safe return to Ferelden with none the wiser. But the more houses he hits the higher the chance someone will see him and report it to the Senate. His face is not exactly unknown.” Maevaris sighed delicately.

“I knew he was somewhat unstable, but this just seems-” he trailed off and sighed noisily, “a MASSIVE leap!” In frustration he stood and paced to the fireplace, staring into the flames, hands folded at his back.

“Why do you say he was unstable? That seems an odd thing to say of your lover.” She considered him curiously.

“It was everything. His upbringing in my house made him more dependent on me than I had realized. Then losing the Inquisition, betrayed by a friend, and losing his arm-” Dorian shook his head. “It was too much for him I believe.”

“Considering Fenris’s past, as well as Kaim’s suffering at the hands of Magister Frigidian, it now does not seem a far stretch to find him here, slaughtering venatori and magisters known for slavery.” Dorian glanced over his shoulder as she spoke. “Fenris likely met him somewhere along the way and convinced him to join forces. Alone Fenris was merely a nuisance. Together, they are dangerously formidable. And possibly a danger to themselves. Who knows how self-destructive this rampage is? It seems imperative that Kaim be separated from Fenris’s influence as quickly as we are able.”

Dorian’s face darkened at Maevaris’s words. “Unfortunately, Kaim and I did not part on the best of terms. We didn’t part on terms at all really. Ever since then I’ve been trying to contact him to no avail. He won’t answer this Maker’s cursed crystal.” In irritation he pulled on the chain, freeing the crystal from his robes and glaring at it petulantly. “I know you feel it on your end, you gorgeous knit-wit!” 

“Spoken like a true magister,” Maevaris drawled with a smile.

“Oh shut up.” Dorian was smiling, albeit wearily. His fingers closed over the crystal and he sent another request for communication, sadness filling him with every pulse that went unanswered. _Kaim, Amatus, why won’t you answer?_

Across the city, Kaim was finishing a paltry meal, laughing at something Fenris had just said when the crystal warmed against his chest. When Fenris turned away to retrieve something Kaim slipped his hand into his tunic and closed his palm around the crystal, knowing from the pulsing that it meant Dorian was just on the other end, holding it similarly. The closeness both soothed and distressed him. He tucked those thoughts away for later, along with the crystal.

\---

A few days later they attacked a lesser house, but one that practically stank of Venatori connections. It turned out to be a veritable treasure trove of information. Journals, logs, travel documents, shipments manifestos littered the place, filled with names they hadn't been aware of yet. With the information they uncovered their target list nearly tripled. 

They also gained another three converts to their cause, increasing their need for a larger base of operations. Fenris promised them he would keep his ears to his contacts, hoping for one to step forward with an offer. 

They settled into their now cramped hideout in lower Minrathous and Kaim sat off to one side, observing their followers becoming acquainted with one another. Perth and Shass were proving to be valuable as emerging lieutenants, taking the newer members under their wings. It was so achingly familiar to the inquisition that Kaim found himself turning away, moving to a ledge overlooking the alley entrance to their lair. 

“I remember seeing you, once.” Fenris’s voice startled him out of his reverie and he glanced up as the white haired elf joined him, settling beside him on the ledge. 

“You remember seeing me?” Kaim asked, confusion clear in his voice.

Fenris nodded with a far away smile. “You couldn't have been more than fourteen. I'm not surprised you don't remember me. It was a large party with a lot of slaves in attendance to their masters, but I'll never forget watching you dance.” 

Kaim flushed.

“It took me a while to connect that young man with you. You've changed since then. Your face was much softer.” He reached one tattooed finger up and trailed Kaim's more angular jaw, bringing a deeper flush to his cheeks and Fenris grinned. “You were so young, so broken, until you began dancing. Then it was like the entire room shone with your light; you were magnificent to behold.” His fingers dropped and he stared forward again. “Not long after I escaped, setting myself on the path that would lead me here. But every now and then, believe it or not, I thought of you.” He glanced at Kaim sidelong. “I thought of the dancing boy, how beautiful and graceful you were. I wondered if you were dead, wondered what had happened to you.” He smiled. “You left quite the impression. Even Danarius had been anxious to get his hands on you. After my escape I hoped and prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't scoop you up in an attempt to repeat his experiment on me.” Fenris kicked his feet idly, staring at his toes.

“He tried.” Fenris glanced at Kaim at that. “But apparently he didn't have enough. I was expensive it would seem.” Kaim gave him a rueful grin which was returned. “Of all the people in Thedas, that we would meet again.” Kaim sighed with a soft smile. “I wish I could remember you. But that whole period of my life was one nightmare after another.” 

Fenris hummed and swung his feet. “From the timeline I've pieced together in my head, you were not yet owned by the Pavus house yet, yes?” 

“Indeed,” Kaim nodded. “It would be another few years yet before that happened. And to be honest-” he paused a took a deep breath, “I owe Dorian my life. My outlook was bleak before he took ownership of me.” 

“He treated you well, then?” Fenris was hesitant to press, but his curiosity won. 

“Better than well. He educated me, treated me as an equal. Those years were some of the happiest of my life.” A soft, nostalgic smile lit Kaim's face. 

“What happened?” 

“Oh,” Kaim blew out a breath, “I became greedy and selfish, putting my emotions before sense. I had fallen in love with Dorian, and he with me. The one time we allowed ourselves a moment of pleasure happened to be when Halward, his father, caught us. I was banished from the household. Dorian set me on the Imperial Highway with a pouch of sovereigns, a map, a small bag of supplies, and orders to find a Dalish clan.” He made a gesture at the tattoos under his eyes. “Which I did, obviously. And the rest is history.” 

Fenris gazed at him, a soft and appraising expression on his face. “Your life has been one of hardship and loss, but there's no denying the man it's made of you.” Kaim glanced up at that. “You're a force to be reckoned with, and a fine young man who has seen far too much in your short life, yet you continue to fight on. The Inquisition was lucky to have you.” 

But Kaim could sense the words Fenris held back. “No different from you,” he said instead, steering onto safer ground.

“Not so. Hawke was the leader of our group. I was too filled with hate to be any decent leader.” Fenris dismissed the thought with a flippant wave of his hand. 

“And you had just escaped the clutches of Danarius, whereas I had merely left the safety of a relatively loving home,” Kaim pointed out with a raised eyebrow and a smile. 

“If you insist on branding me the hero here, then fine! I accept the burden!” Fenris laughed lightly and pushed Kaim’s head companionably, pleased at his return smile and laugh. 

“If you two are quite done wooing one another.” Perth’s voice drew their attention and they both turned, identical blushes staining their cheeks to find her eyeing them in amusement. “There is a messenger here for Fenris. I believe it is regarding your proposal.” 

They glanced at one another excitedly, then eagerly followed Perth down to the hideout floor.

\---

The increasing attacks were leaving many in the magisterium uneasy. The Senate was a madhouse of accusations and chaos, and amidst it all the power struggles continued. It was enough to nearly make Dorian quit. Nearly. He had a wayward elf to find. 

“My lord.” The smooth voice of his doorman brought Dorian out of his sour pouting at his study desk. “There is a young woman here requesting an audience with ‘Ser Silky Bloomers’.” The amusement was impossible to hide in his voice, despite his most valiant efforts and Dorian smiled widely in return. 

“Sera is quite the treasure isn't she? Send her in, please-” the words were interrupted by an arrow slamming into the paper covered surface of his desk, the vibrant red fletching vibrating with the force of its landing. “This is hand carved mahogany I’ll have you know.” Hardly missing a beat, Dorian glanced up into the shadows of the vaulted ceiling to his study in time to see the skinny figure drop to the floor and stalk to his desk. 

“You hurt Kaim.” Sera’s blonde hair was longer now, but still as unevenly trimmed, hanging in her eyes in a lopsided manner that gave her a deceptively innocent look. The rest of it hung to barely brush her shoulders on either side. If possible she looked more like a waif than she had previously.

“It was not my intention and you know it.” A frown pulled at his face as he gazed off to the side to hide the pain he knew reflected in his eyes. “He left before I had a chance to explain myself.” 

“Andraste’s pimpled arse!” She slammed her hand on his desk before ripping the arrow out and waving the tip in his face. “You was the ONE thing wots never s’posed to hurt ‘im!” Color rose into her cheeks a splotchy indicator of how furious she was. 

“I don’t WANT to hurt him! I WANT to marry him!” Dorian shot to his feet, towering over her, his face a mixture of pain and anger. “I had a way to keep him safe and allow us to be together, Sera.” The anger immediately drained away and his brows rose in entreaty. “You must know that a large portion of Tevinter wanted him dead even _before_ this fiasco. He was not safe here and here is where I _had_ to be. I found a way to circumvent that obstacle, but he ran before I could explain fully. Sera,” he circled the desk and gripped her by her shoulders desperately, “please. Please help me find him. If there’s anyone that can sniff him out it’s you.” 

Staring up into his face, seeing the myriad of emotions warring within him, Sera softened and gave him a sad smile. “Don’t think this gits yer bloody arse outta it. You didn’t see ‘im when he showed in Haven.” She rubbed her face and flopped into the plush chair at his desk. “Nuthin’ you do or say can make up for that.” Both eyes focused on his face, glittering with anger again. 

“Once he is safe you can enact vengeance upon me all you like.” Sighing, he slid his leg up onto the edge of his desk and sat a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Surely you must have some idea where he is hiding out?” 

It wholly surprised him when she threw both her hands up and shot out of the chair, moving to pace wildly in the open floor space. “It’s like he’s a friggin’ ghost! Doesn’t help that between ‘im and Mr Wolfy Faced Arse Nugget my Jennies here’re in shambles!” 

Dorian blinked. “What?” 

“Solas, ya dim-witted twat! Nine outta ten elfie fucks’re securely in his pocket! Had more’n my fair share o’ rootin’ them out, lemme tell you.” She continued to pace, chewing on her thumb. “An the slaves good as worship the ground Kaim walks on. None’ve ‘em are talkin’, even to those what claim prankin’ rights with the turd.” 

“Alright. Once more please, but this time in the common tongue.” Dorian folded his hands and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“The Red Jenny Network,” she gestured at him in exasperation. “It’s _fractured_. Broken. The Red Jennies are those what been kicked, but most of those are elves or slaves. Get the picture? If they don’t follow Solas then they follow Kaim and none of ‘em will talk to me an mine. They’re protectin’ him, ye bloody twit. _Especially_ from those what claim to know him from before. It’s like someone told ‘em not to let anyone close to ‘im.” 

Dorian pursed his lips, staring into space off to the side. “That does present a problem. Wait. I thought he was operating only with Fenris. There are _others_?” 

“Boy, you’re a quick one.” She stuck her tongue out at the exasperated face he gave her. “Yeh! He’s got a new following. From what I can gather, an that ain’t much, he’s got a small group what actually hits the houses. But the network is huge. He’s got nobles, servants, and slaves alike reportin’ in.” A shadowed expression crossed her face. “But Kaim ain’t settin’ to mess around with nobles the way my Jennies do. He’s settin’ up the way stabbers do when they’re gittin’ ready ta make some waves.” 

Dorian blanched, hoping he misunderstood her. “Come again?”

“Assassins, dumbass. Like them Crows. Kaim’s settin’ up shop. An he ain’t leavin’ soon.” 

\---


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We're finally here! The end! We made it! Some of you have stuck around since the beginning, well over a year ago, and for that you have my heartfelt thanks. Even for those who only joined a chapter or two ago, your immeasurable support and loving comments have kept me going through all these ups and downs. Especially HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta, @Valka, whose tireless corrections have kept me from embarrassing myself. Seriously, I counted one set of paragraphs where I had the word "often" in it a total eight times. Not good. Anyways! I hope you enjoy this conclusion to Kaim's story, no promises, but I think everyone will be at least satisfied by my resolution. I'm not sure his story will ever continue, it kinda depends on where the next Dragon Age game goes, but I may write more AU stuff for him, and I will definitely be finishing Charger's Fitness now. That will become my #1 priority.
> 
> THANK YOU AGAIN AND I LOVE YOU ALL!!! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, I have an art blog where I post just my art and commissions: enaykin-art.tumblr.com (I do take commissions as well, the link should be at the top of the page)  
> And also my personal blog where I post random stuff that makes me happy (multiple fandoms, not just DA, also NSFW posts, you've been warned), and writing blurbs when I'm feeling up to it, as well as sketches, incomplete works, and other stuff. That blog is enaykin.tumblr.com

They took a few days to move and settle into their new base of operations. The house they were using was that of a mid-class noble which had an intricate network of tunnels running under the estate with several exits and escape routes. Of course they had to contend with the fact that these were catacombs and thus housed their honored dead, but it was a small price to pay for the convenience, space, and accessibility. Their seven followers spread out across the city, gathering supplies and resources while Kaim and Fenris laid low in their new hideout.

“Not exactly homey,” Kaim teased, leaping easily to walk across the stone top of a sarcophagus with a chuckle. He ran his fingers along the aging statue at the head. “But it will suffice, I suppose. Maybe a few curtains, a nice throw or two.” He laughed at Fenris’s expression, flopping down to sit on the edge of the coffin. 

“Apologies, Lord Inquisitor, that the accommodations are not to the lavish standards to which you are accustomed. Perhaps we should have your personal silks shipped over from Skyhold?” Fenris chuckled, jumping up to join Kaim in sitting on the slab. 

“If I still had any.” Kaim bumped shoulders with Fenris. “I’m pretty sure when I disappeared after the Exalted Council in Halamshiral that they sold off all my holdings in Skyhold. And what held no value they sent to my empty estate in Kirkwall.” 

“You have a home in Kirkwall?” Fenris was immediately intrigued. 

Kaim nodded absently. “Something Varric set up for me. I never went to look. Dorian and I broke up at the Exalted Council, right after I lost my arm, and I went out of my head for a little bit.” Kaim’s chuckle was bitter. 

Fenris raised both eyebrows with a thoughtful expression. “Perhaps it is close to mine?” 

Kaim turned to him with a grin and it was his turn to ask. “You have a home in Kirkwall?” 

“A mansion,” Fenris proclaimed grandly. “The former home of Danarius. It’s falling apart at the seams, and now has all sorts of damage I inflicted myself over the years. But it’s mine.” He grinned. 

Kaim chuckled. “Maybe once this is all over we can be neighbors. And I can bother you to borrow some sugar.” 

“You cook?” 

“Not really. It would just be an excuse to bother you.” They both laughed. 

After a moment Kaim reached up with his only hand, pulling at the hairs in his ponytail, attempting to straighten it. The poor thing had sagged significantly on the back of his head, but with one hand there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

“Fenris, may I ask you a favor?” 

Fenris’s face cracked in a large grin. “Would you like me to fix your hair for you?” He eyed the ebony tresses that had definitely seen better days. 

“Please? It’s driving me insane.” Kaim slipped off the sarcophagus and moved in front of Fenris, whose knees parted and Kaim turned his back to him, leaning against the coffin. “I need it out of my face, but I can’t put it up on my own.” 

“Would you not prefer to simply cut it?” Though the moment the words were out of Fenris’s mouth he knew such a thing would be a travesty, especially as he gently removed the tie from the glorious hair and watched it cascade down. 

“No. My hair has been long my entire life and I would prefer it remain so. It’s...a part of who I am, if that makes sense.” After a moment Kaim realized Fenris’s knees were on either side of his shoulders, brushing against him gently and he swallowed hard, attempting to focus on something else. 

Fenris hummed softly. “I understand. It would be a crime anyway. Your hair is magnificent.” Very gently he detangled the silk as best he could, running his fingers through it to bring it back to some semblance of order. And if he took his time doing so, he certainly wasn’t going to tell Kaim. Fenris combed from his forehead down before scooping up the thick hair and positioning it high on the back of his head. He tied it firmly in place then ran his fingers through the tail gently one more time to make sure it was neat and tangle free. “There. All better?” 

Kaim took a deep breath. Having Fenris’s fingers in his hair had been glorious and he needed a moment to gather himself again. “Yes, very much so. Thank you.” He moved forward, bobbing his head side to side to test it, pleased when it felt very close to normal. He glanced over to find Fenris regarding him with an unreadable expression in his glittering emerald eyes. Something about his gaze set butterflies flitting through his stomach. “Fenris?” 

For a moment Fenris merely gazed back at him. He took a deep breath, sliding off the sarcophagus and taking a step closer. “Kaim, I-”

The door creaked, signalling Perth and Shass’s return and Fenris fell back that step, turning his attention to them and the moment was lost. For some time Kaim wondered what Fenris had been about to say before he threw it from his mind and focused on the task at hand.

\---

A leather bound sheaf of papers slapping onto his desk scared Dorian right out of the dozing state he’d drifted into. “Must you insist on being contrary and alarming?” Dorian stifled a yawn, shooting a look up at the slight elf who immediately perched on the edge of his desk next to the chaotic bundle of papers. 

“As long as you insist on bein’ magickey, sparkly, and woooooo,” Sera waggled her fingers to emphasize her statement.

The look Dorian leveled her with was scathingly deadpan. “And ‘woooo’,” he quoted back before rubbing his face tiredly. “What’s this now?” He sat up straight and pulled the poorly bound papers toward himself. The pages stuck out at haphazard angles with writing scrawled across them in nearly illegible penmanship, complete with Sera’s doodles in the margins. Hers wasn’t the only handwriting however. 

“Reports, ya wanker. The Jennies popped in an’ left me their findings. Ain’t much to go on, but better’n nothing.” She shrugged before slipping off the desk and heading for the door. 

“At the very least it should help narrow my list of possible targets.” Dorian squinted his eyes as he perused the contents intently. “Thank you, Sera.” But when he glanced up she was gone. Considerably scarier and more stealthy when she was in her element that one. 

He found a few interesting tidbits in the reports. Apparently Sera’s Jennies were able to pinpoint one of Kaim’s followers and tail her. It was a young elven woman with fiery red hair. None of them approached her, but they followed where they could, documenting a few houses she appeared to be scoping out. Her skills were significant enough to lose them, so they were unable to discover their base of operations, but this left Dorian with something to go on. It was better than nothing. 

For hours Dorian poured over the Red Jenny’s reports, especially the locations this redheaded agent spied upon. There were four houses in total, leaving him in a quandary. Which house would they choose next? Carefully, he examined each target, evaluating them in the mindset of someone warring venatori. He weighed the recent attacks, and the projected locations of the bulk of the Minrathous guard. 

It was well past midnight when he had finally narrowed it down to two possible targets. And there was no way of determining which was the more likely without actually being in the heads of the intrepid elves leading this merry band. He would simply have to guess and post his own spies to watch the houses. 

What he wasn't expecting was for them to be bold enough to attack before nightfall the following day. 

A frantic messenger burst into Dorian’s study, babbling about a duo of elves who had just assaulted the Vonones mansion by the servant’s entrance. Dorian didn't even stay long enough for the messenger to finish, snatching his staff and bursting out the door the moment he realized it was happening at that moment. Foregoing the carriage, which would draw attention, he drew his cloak closely around him to shroud his face and took a lone horse instead. He barreled down the back streets, praying with everything he had that he would make it in time. 

The fires lit the sky orange even from a distance, brightening the night, and he urged his horse on faster. They'd never burned the previous mansions. Something must have gone wrong. 

His spy congealed from the darkness as he approached the outer wall of the mansion and leapt from his horse. “What happened?” Dorian demanded, handing over the reins. 

“One of the house mages,” the spy panted, “their spell went awry as they were killed and the fire spread out of control. The two elves are headed back for the servant’s entrance, escorting the slaves and servants. The black haired one went back inside to check for stragglers.” 

Dorian barely nodded before dashing for the gate, finding it standing ajar. Out of the darkness to his right, along the stone wall appeared a burly brown haired elf who was missing part of an ear. “I'm gonna need ta ask you to step away,” the elf informed him. Fortunately, with his hood, Dorian wasn't as recognizable and he ignored the warning, dashing through the gate. The man yelled after him but it was soon drowned out by the roaring of the mansion fire. 

He burst through the front doors and stopped cold at the carnage before him. Guards laid strewn in pools of crimson throughout the hall. Maelius Vonones himself laid upside down across the curving obsidian staircase, his head nearly severed from his body. 

Taking in the macabre scene only briefly, he dashed for the servant’s quarters and found the way blocked by roaring flames. Thinking quickly, he turned back the way he'd come, exiting through the front to circle the house. Dorian sprinted through the gardens, his chest tight and his heart in his throat. _Please, Kaim. Please be alright._

Rounding a corner, he skidded to a stop. Across the courtyard a line of slaves was hurrying from the servant entrance, bustled along by a silver haired elf with white tattoos and a great sword that he could only assume was Fenris. Flames licked along the trees between him and the escaping slaves, preventing a closer approach. If he wanted to reach them he'd have to circle the entire house in the other direction, and there was no guarantee flames wouldn't block him there either. 

The last of the slaves trickled out and an achingly familiar figure followed them, hurrying them along. 

“ _Amatus_!” He yelled, needing to be heard over the roar of the flames. Kaim’s head snapped around, shock clear in his turquoise eyes, even from this distance. “Please! Give this up! Come back, _please_!” 

For a moment Kaim looked torn, frozen in place, his wide eyes softening, glimmering as though with unshed tears. It lasted only a heartbeat and he quickly glanced away, his posture stiffening with his resolve. The raging fires behind him whipped at his ponytail and cast him in an eerie, flickering relief. He hardly looked like the man Dorian had left behind. 

“Stay out of my way, Dorian. This is your only warning.” When Kaim glanced back his eyes were hard and filled with determination, but he couldn't entirely squash the affectionate, sad glint. 

A mix of desperation and hope clenched at Dorian’s chest, but before he could reply a large portion of the east wing came down between them and he was forced back a few steps, covering his eyes from the burning embers. When the debris and ash finally cleared Kaim was gone, as if he'd never been there at all. 

Though Kaim may have rejected him this time, Dorian knew all was not lost. Kaim was hurting because of him. Getting him back wasn't going to be easy, but there was hope. He’d seen it in his eyes before he disappeared.

No, Dorian thought as he turned and retreated before the guards came; he was not giving up on Kaim. 

\---

“What in the blazes happened? Literally.” Shass asked when they finally burst into their new home in the catacombs, everyone unbuckling their weapons before settling in. 

“One of the mages got off an unfortunately aimed fireball spell before he died. It hit the wall of tapestry all along the rear of the main hall and that was it. Much of the mansion was wood rather than stone and it ignited immediately.” Fenris unstrapped his great sword and leaned it against the statue at the head of the sarcophagus he'd claimed for his bedroll. Each of them had chosen a different coffin to lay their bedding out upon. It kept them raised off the sometimes moist stone floor and was conveniently, appropriately sized. Fortunately most of the corpses within were long since decomposed beyond bones. The newer bodies were buried in a different wing of the catacombs. 

“It wasn't our intention to burn it down. That puts too many slaves at risk. It was merely an unfortunate accident,” Kaim interjected, jumping to sit on the sarcophagus opposite the one Fenris had chosen. They were strategically placed, and the first ones happened upon when entering, protecting their followers sleeping beyond them when they bedded for the night

“Faygin and Shass, take this and purchase food for our dinner tonight. Make sure you split up and shop at separate locations.” Fenris held out a small pouch of coins and Shass accepted it, nodding before leading the woman out. 

The rest of the crew crowded around a map placed in the center of the room, reporting in guard movements they'd witnessed on their roundabout routes back to the crypt as well as any gossip or rumors they'd heard along the way. 

Food arrived and was handed out, but with it came a tidbit of news that worried Kaim. 

“While I was making my purchase the merchants were talking about a conversation they'd overheard. Apparently a magister is being called in to account for accusations, and it's one of the ones we're supposed to be protecting, Magister Pavus.” Shass continued to outline the little else he'd heard, but Kaim wasn't listening anymore, worried intensely for Dorian’s safety. 

Once the group settled for the evening, Fenris joined Kaim who had moved to sit out of sight on the other side of the sarcophagus. “If you're worrying about Pavus, I wouldn't.” He curled into a sitting position next to Kaim, their shoulders brushing. “He's a well respected magister with quite a supportive following. I doubt even the Imperial Archon would dare outright accuse him. _My_ worry is why they've called him. My fear is they know you're connected to the killings. I had wanted to keep them in the dark with regards to you.” 

“Without a leak, I highly doubt they have actual knowledge of my involvement.” Kaim leaned into him, resting his head on Fenris’s shoulder. 

Fenris shook his head. “Unless it's one of the newer recruits I don't think we have a leak. But I'll keep an eye on them, and we'll keep it between us, no need to seed paranoia through our ranks.” He glanced down at the top of Kaim's head, smiling softly. “Would you like me to take care of your hair before heading to bed?” 

A chuckle bubbled out of Kaim and he shook his head in amusement. “Seed paranoia through our ranks,” he repeated. “It sounds so official.” He chuckled again before sitting up and shifting. “Sure, if you don’t mind.” 

With a grin Fenris turned to face Kaim as he turned his back, presenting the other elf with his sagging ponytail. “Normally I’m not one for more elegant pursuits, but a chance to touch this amazing hair? You bet.” He smiled at Kaim’s snort. “I just wish we had a brush or a comb for you.” 

“Maybe we can pick one up next time one of us is out,” Kaim murmured thoughtfully. Honestly, he’d left almost everything behind in Haven. The only things he’d placed in his pack were necessities such as food and water, weapons, a map, and a small pouch of sovereigns stuffed in his boot.

“That’s a thought.” Fenris pulled out the tie and began combing his fingers through the ebony silk, gently freeing the tangles and brushing out any residual ash. “Would you like it up to sleep in? Or braided? Or leave it down?”

“You know how to braid?” He shot a look over his shoulder at Fenris, a small teasing smile playing at his lips. 

“Only basic braids. Hawke’s hair got a little long there for a while, so I learned because he was all thumbs. He couldn’t seem to braid anything decent looking behind his own head. Half the time it ended up in a tangled mess that took days to fix.” They both laughed, Kaim greatly amused by the image until he remembered just where Hawke was right then and it was quickly replaced by a somber frown.

The hands in his hair paused. “Look, despite what I said when we first met...I don't blame you.” Kaim blinked back the moisture in his eyes at Fenris’s words. By the sound of it, Fenris would have attempted a relationship with Hawke had he returned. Something Kaim felt he'd ruined. He had left Hawke in the fade after all. 

“Hey,” Fenris gripped his shoulder and gently turned him, reaching a calloused hand up to cup Kaim's cheek and raise his face, forcing him to meet his eyes. “It wasn't your fault. Just like you said before, Hawke was as stubborn as he was stupid.” Kaim snorted at that and Fenris cracked a grin. “He chose his path, and it was the right one. The wardens needed Alistair badly, and the Inquisition needed you. Reven’s time was past. He’d done his duty. Kirkwall was in new hands and he'd told you all he knew of Corypheus. He was the logical choice.” 

“That doesn't make it any easier.” Kaim's eyes fell, unwilling to meet Fenris’s any longer. “And that doesn't make it right. Logical means fuck nothing. He had you, his friends. He was important too.” 

Sadness washed over Fenris’s face and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Kaim's. “Reven was too hurt. I had wanted something with him, it's true. And I think he may have wanted that too. But Isabella’s betrayal hurt him too much. She came back, but he was never the same. Hawke was slow to trust, and once broken you would never regain it again. I think he was too afraid after that. And I was still too jaded. Even if he had returned, it might not have worked for us. Do not feel guilt for what probably would never have been anyway. Live for now, and the future we're giving these people.” 

Kaim finally leaned back and met his gaze, at a loss for words. Glittering like emeralds in the low light, Fenris’s eyes flicked over Kaim's face, settling at last on his slightly parted lips. The breath froze in Kaim's lungs as Fenris slowly inched forward. Was this- did he want this?

Warm breath washed across the sensitive skin of Kaim's face and his eyelids drifted lower, focused on Fenris’s lips, so close-

“Fenris!” Perth’s voice on the other side of the coffin shattered the moment and they leapt apart like school boys who'd been caught. “New messages just arrived. Looks like the nobles are sending in their observations.” Paper shuffled just out of sight. 

“I am coming,” he said loud enough to be heard. One hand raised and he ran a thumb along the light blue tattoo under Kaim's eye. “Join us?” 

Kaim nodded, watching as Fenris stood, then accepting his hand to help him rise. He wasn't sure how he felt about what almost happened, but he shoved the confusing feelings aside to examine another time. From the sounds of it, they had a new target to choose.

\---

The grandest building in all Tevinter was most assuredly the vaulting hall that housed the Senate and their hearings. It was a massive, circular, cathedral ceilinged room with rows upon rows of comfortable, posh, theater style seating. Before each section of chairs gleamed finely polished and gilded tables, the sections separated by houses and alliances. In the center, set back along one wall on a raised dais was the sunburst throne of the “black divine.” Next to it, and placed just as high, was the seat of the Imperial Archon. The seat was currently occupied by Radonis, still in power despite Dorian’s father’s machinations. 

Massive, curved stained glass windows cast a myriad of color across the room and its inhabitants, which was currently filled to the brim, highlighting them all in the tales depicted by the delicate panes. No matter their imposing stature, anyone appeared small and powerless standing before the might and grandeur of the Senate, and that was precisely the goal of the architecture and embellishments. Dorian was no different as he stood tall despite the oppressive nature of the crowd around him. 

In the wake of Maelius Vonones death, who had been a magister with considerable power and influence in the Senate and the most vocally outspoken supporter of the venatori and slavery, there had been an outcry and wave of panic the likes of which haven’t been seen in Tevinter in centuries. An official summons had been delivered to Dorian’s door, demanding -in the politest terms of course- that he attend an emergency session of the Senate to “address accusations” and “put spurious rumors to rest.” 

In other words Kaim had been outed.

When he had arrived, however, it was to discover the situation was not as dire as he’d originally feared. Their evidence was flimsy at best. The people were in a panic, grasping at the ghostly straws of whatever they could find, and unfortunately Kaim had a reputation. By the end of the Inquisition he was known in Tevinter as one of the most accomplished assassins to come out of the country, and he was also known to have dubious and vengeful ties to Tevinter, soothed only by the purported relationship with the Pavus magister. 

“What reason could you possibly have contrived to make you believe the Exalted Herald and former Lord Inquisitor has anything to do with these murders,” Dorian argued. “There have been no living eyewitnesses! We do not even know it was an elf!” He spoke slowly, attempting to give nothing of his true feelings away, speaking with an arrogance he was known for, but tempering his pride. Kaim was still on unstable ground.

“Ignoring the blatantly heretical portion of that statement-” the Black Divine began, a decidedly sour expression on his face. 

Dorian smirked.

“-there have been reports from surviving servants loyal to the Imperium who have stated it was two elves, one silver haired and one raven haired.” 

Dorian waved a dismissive hand. “Statements from traumatized survivors desperate to prove themselves useful so they aren't executed for failing in their duty to protect their masters. And besides, the Herald’s hair is more ‘ebony’ than ‘raven’.” Dorian gave a smooth smile to the exasperated glare he received. “There are also two additional flaws to your presumption. First is that the Herald is a dagger rogue. The weapon used is Anderfels in origin. He’s never even been to that part of Thedas. Secondly he's safely ensconced in his mansion in Hightown Kirkwall, as supported by this letter from the Viscount of Kirkwall himself.” Now THAT had taken some convincing on Dorian's part, but he held the letter up triumphantly. 

Radonis leaned forward, his eyes narrowed slightly, though not unkindly. “A letter hardly proves current residence, Magister Pavus.” 

“And what would you have me do? Blithely skip the week long journey it would take to arrive at his home in Kirkwall to then return a week later and confirm his presence?” Dorian laid the letter down and rested the fingertips of both hands on the mirror-like surface, leaning on them slightly. “As rumors of the relationship between he and I are obviously common knowledge, evidenced by the very fact you are speaking to me and not someone else, I fail to see why you are asking me at all. As a biased party, my word will hardly carry any weight on the matter.” 

“Romantic entanglements aside,” the Black Divine spoke up, “you traveled with him for quite some time, spent time in his presence, watched him operate during the Inquisition. Is there anything to suggest that this could be his handiwork?” The tone was much more polite than before, but the undercurrents of doubt and accusation still ran deep. 

Dorian shook his head, adopting an empathetic expression. “Inquisitor Lavellan, as I am sure you were already aware, lost his arm in the final moments of the events that transpired at Halamshiral. He was incapable of entering into combat once more, both mentally and physically. Since the dissolution of the Inquisition he has remained ensconced in his estate in Kirkwall, where he will continue to remain in retirement. There is no possible way this is his handiwork.” He was well aware that lying before the Senate was an offense punishable to the fullest extent of their law. He would lose his position, his family’s holdings, and possibly his life. 

Kaim was worth all of that and more. There was no way he would allow anyone in the Imperium to touch him or hurt him in any way. Now he just needed to find the little bugger.

\---

“So, you really are the former Inquisitor?” Faygin asked in curiosity, leaning back against her lover who had her arms caged gently around her torso. 

Kaim nodded, chewing his portion of bread and meat. “It feels like a long time ago. So much has happened since then, but yes. Tevinter hates me for quite a few reasons.” He brushed off his hands with a smile at Fenris’s snort. 

“Which begs the question, did someone happen to see you and recognize you? How else would the Senate have known to ask Magister Pavus about your whereabouts?” Perth asked from her perch nearby, tearing into her own food with a voracity that made Kaim smile. 

“Eh, it’s possible I suppose.” Kaim tugged down his ponytail and ran his fingers through his hair, missing Fenris’s interested eyes watching the movement. 

“If your face is so recognizable then you should take more stringent care not to be seen, even by those we rescue, lest one of them decide to report back to the magisters. A hood and cowl perhaps?” Shass picked at his bread thoughtfully. 

“He's right,” Fenris interjected. “We can't risk your reputation. There's still a lot of good that could be accomplished in the future using your title. We don't wish to tarnish that.” He brushed off his hands once he'd polished off his own meal. 

Kaim examined the neck and shoulders of his cloth and leather armor. “I should be able to layer a cloak and hood over this fairly easily.” 

“But wouldn't a cloak pose a danger? Something else for the enemy to grab onto?” Faygin ran her fingers over Cyhan’s hand and intertwined their fingers. 

“I don't need a full length one, just long enough to obstruct my shoulder and missing arm. That's a rather strong identifying feature.” Despite Kaim's chuckle, everyone around except Fenris shifted uncomfortably. They had all pointedly avoided talking about it or focusing on it, and Kaim hadn't spoken of it previously. 

“He is not broken and it is not an unmentionable flaw,” Fenris chuckled, eyeing all the embarrassed faces around. “Clearly, it is a loss that does not slow him down any. Would that we all were so strong.” Fenris purposefully avoided glancing at Kaim, instead picking nonchalantly at his armor while the company around eyed one another uncertainly, though Kaim's glowing face was bright in his peripheral and he smiled to himself. 

Kaim cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting around. “Next time you are out Faygin, I trust you to get me an appropriate cloak, or at least a length of dark cloth that I could use to make one.” He tossed a small pouch of coins her way and she caught it with a grin. 

“Got it, boss.” 

\---

This house was the biggest challenge yet. It was almost pathetically easy to spot a nobleman’s house who had venatori ties. They were fortified like a castle under siege with extra guards, wards, sealed gates, sentries checking every person who came and went.

Which is why they didn't bother with doors. 

Kaim and Fenris slipped over the walls, opting for stealth this time, a tactic they weren't widely known for using. This had been purposeful. They knew their targets would tighten ranks and security the more of them they killed. By boldly assaulting the front door, sometimes even in daylight, they were establishing a pattern their future targets would be anticipating. Now they could switch tactics and take them entirely by surprise, causing more panic and confusion.

The perimeter of the Ravilla mansion was heavy, but once inside the guard was thin, not expecting them to slip that easily into the interior. Guard by guard they killed their way silently through the compound, thinning the opposition as efficiently as possible. They knew once the alarm was sounded the remaining guards would descend on them, and they stood a better chance with each one killed before that happened.

Using hand signals, Kaim indicated to Fenris that he was splitting off, pulling out a hook and line. He stowed his whip and slung the hook high into the air, catching it on the third floor balcony, then proceeded to climb his way into the mansion. While Fenris continued to cull the exterior guards, Kaim worked his way toward Fenris from the inside out. 

Some of the slaves Kaim freed made a small commotion as they escaped to freedom out the window Kaim came in, garnering Magister Kaeso Ravilla’s attention. He hadn't been expecting an assault from within his mansion, especially on the third floor. Kaim slipped into the shadows, waiting until he hurried toward the disturbance and right into his line of sight. 

Silver flashed and the magister went down, yanked off his feet by a length of metal wrapped around his throat. One good tug silenced him forever. 

Left in the hallway with his head partially severed from his body, a crimson pool growing beneath his body, Kaim stepped away with hardly a backward glance. Primary target eliminated, now it was time to ensure all the slaves made it out. 

Floor by floor, Kaim cut through the guard foolish enough to stand against him. Since the Senate hearing he had adopted the hood and cowl Faygin had gotten him to keep his identity hidden. Only his glittering eyes were visible through the darkened shroud. Thus he felt safer allowing guards who renounced their magister leader to escape. None of them could identify him. It conveniently also hid his missing arm. 

The whip trailed crimson as he descended the stairs, joining the all out battle Fenris was waging in the great hall. A feral smile hid in the shadows of his cowl, but shone brightly through his eyes as he joined the dance. As a duo they cut through the ranks of guards like a warm knife in butter, whirling back to back before spinning away, weapons flashing, trailing crimson in their wake. 

At last the hall fell silent but for their heavy breaths. Kaim pulled his cowl from his face, feeling stuffy and needing the brush of cool air on his face. 

Their skin buzzed with adrenaline and pure exhilaration. They were spattered with blood and gleaming with sweat, satiated grins mirrored on their faces as they panted, sharing a glance. Grins faded as Fenris closed the space between them, his dark, strong arm circling Kaim’s waist, pulling their bodies flush, all hard muscle and sinew. Sharp, gauntleted points caught delicately along Kaim’s back, pulling shivers from him, their eyes half lidded in arousal, drunk on the power they possessed together. They were so alike, starved of touch, burning with conviction, an inferno of righteous hatred, feeding off one another. Mesmerized, Kaim couldn’t stop staring at Fenris’ slightly parted lips as he leaned in, red spattered bangs hanging in his glittering eyes that were equally focused on Kaim’s.

 _Dorian_.

Kaim’s mind came to a screeching halt.

“You still love Hawke,” he said abruptly.

Fenris jerked back as if Kaim had struck him. 

“And I still love Dorian. It would never be complete between us.” Kaim’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hawke is gone,” Fenris’ voice cracked as he backed away slowly, his bangs hiding his eyes. “But you still have a chance with Dorian.” 

“I doubt that. Reconciliation may not be possible at this point.” Kaim glanced down and away, stung by the thought. He did this himself. 

“That's not what that crystal says.” Emeralds glowing in the semi-darkness settled on the unseen amulet hidden beneath Kaim’s tunic and his fingers flew to it reflexively, Kaim’s palm covering it almost to protect it. “I know he’s still trying. It’s why you touch it so often. You’re right. I was a fool to even think there could be something between us. I knew even before that you still love Dorian.” 

The expression on his face was so defeated and Kaim closed the distance between them again, taking Fenris by the shoulder and peering up under his bangs into his eyes. “No, Fenris. I was the one confused and sending you mixed signals. I was just so...lost and adrift before I found you. You have helped me more than words can ever describe, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Let’s not let this be a wedge between us? I doubt it would have worked anyway. I’m a terrible boyfriend. Just ask Dorian.” 

Fenris let out a laugh at that. “Not that I would be any better. We’d likely be such disappointments to one another that the relationship would end before it began.” 

“Regular walking disasters with pointed ears.” Kaim grinned at Fenris’s amused expression, leading the taller elf out of the main hall. They still had slaves to deal with after all, and neither of them were keen on being caught by the guard.

\---

Nothing had been the same between them since the conversation in the great hall. There was a sadness that hung between them, preventing the closeness they’d felt previously. Perhaps it was for the best, thought Kaim. His heart belonged to Dorian, no matter Dorian’s feelings on the subject. To pledge himself to another would only be unfair to all involved. Fenris would never have all of him. It was as simple as that. He owed his life to Fenris, and his sanity. But Fenris would always remain a good friend and nothing more. 

As if he could hear his thoughts, Fenris turned and glanced back at him, the shadows of twilight dancing across his skin, his smile charged with so many emotions and regrets. For a moment Kaim wished he and Dorian could get the time magic to work again, go back and save Reven, help the two of them reconcile. See what they could have had together. 

They would have been so good, Kaim thought sadly. 

The time for these thoughts was not this moment, he scolded firmly as Fenris turned forward again. He continued following the slinking elf through the shadows to their next target. They were opting for stealth once more, the increased presence of guards throughout the city increasing the need for speed and silence. They needed to be in and out quickly. Each job was becoming subsequently more difficult. Perhaps it was time to lay low for a while. Let the chaos blow over, allow them to lower their guard and feel safe once more. 

Fenris slipped over the wall with Kaim right behind him. 

Just as with the last attack they cut through the guards until they reached the house where Kaim branched off, allowing Fenris to continue toward the servant’s entrance while Kaim scaled the house to the top floor. Kaim’s hackles were raised though. This felt too easy. The guard presence within was akin to those at the beginning of their swath of death, not one of a magister who feared for her life. 

The halls were also strangely empty of servants and it wasn’t so late in the evening that all would have retired. Only a few guards dead and a handful of servants he sent back the way he came. Every nerve was on edge, his senses on overdrive. 

Behind him, a soft shuffle caught his ear, the sound of fabric brushing. Kaim spun, whip lashing wickedly, gleaming crimson in the low light. 

On turning however, his eyes widened in horror. Too late to pull the whip back, he watched aghast as it wrapped the slender form of a young elven woman, the blade digging into the soft skin of her shoulder and neck, winding around her back and under her arm to draw blood across her stomach. Crimson rivulets stained her skin, running from her neck to her collar as she stood frozen in place, whimpering in pain, her pupils pinpoints in wide eyes, as she shook in fear. 

For what felt an eternity he couldn’t move, staring horrified. 

Finally his mind caught up and he rushed forward, reassuring her and apologizing. “I thought you a guard!” He grimaced when she winced back from him only to cry out in pain when the whip dug deeper into the delicate skin of her neck. “Please, don’t be afraid, I never meant to hurt you.” 

It took more time than he had to spare to calm her down enough to unwind the whip, extracting it from her skin carefully to cause as little pain and damage as possible. There was still a magister to hunt, but he couldn’t leave her. Tearing his cloak, he bound her wounds. 

From outside a cry of alarm sounded and Kaim knew the game was up. They needed to get the slaves out before the city guard descended. They were going to fail. There was no time to find the magister, who had likely fled. This would be their first failure. The knowledge stung as he assisted her to their exit, gathering every slave he found along the way. He grimaced. Any slave left behind would pay the price for their attack, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Just escaping would take a miracle. 

To make matters worse, the servants and slaves appeared reluctant to follow his orders, further slowing them down. Kaim growled in frustration as the last one finally made it to the ground level and he quickly followed, zipping down his secured line with grace and ease. The moment his feet touched down he hustled them along, herding them like halla toward the predetermined meeting spot with Fenris, the cries of alarms and approaching guards growing louder with each passing moment. 

The soft, telltale sound of a dagger sliding free of its sheath drew his attention back over his shoulder and he spun in time to see the elf woman he’d injured lunge toward him, naked blade in one hand, face contorted in a snarl. Before she could get there or Kaim could react a large blade exploded through her abdomen, stabbing her through from behind. Kaim blinked in bewilderment as Fenris turned his hands, hefting his sword and dumping her body off to one side like as much garbage. 

“She was likely paid or threatened to betray and kill us by her master,” Fenris explained, hurrying them along. “We must flee, the guard approaches.” 

Kaim nodded and assisted in herding the slaves out the garden gate. Perth ran interference with Shass, feeding the guards misinformation while their other scouts trailed the line of slaves, ensuring the guards never got close enough to spot them. It was touch and go for much of the journey, but they managed to skirt the edge of the commotion, the slaves arriving safely at their destination. 

For much of the night their group was scattered, circumventing guards then laying low until the panic blew over. 

Through it all Kaim couldn’t get that elf woman out of his head. He ducked into the catacombs alone, finding them empty except for Shass who had managed to make it back already. They had a brief discussion about what little information they had on the others before they both fell silent. Kaim collapsed against his sarcophagus, staring at his hand as he opened and closed his fist.

It didn’t matter that she turned out to be a would-be assassin; he had severely hurt someone he believed to be innocent. The look in her eyes as she stared at him in horrified pain and fear. He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block out the image only for it to grow stronger in the darkness behind his lids. 

What was he doing? Was this who he had become? So focused on his mission, on his revenge, on his _purpose_ that he’d almost killed a servant? Assassination attempt aside, what if she had been merely seeking his help? His fingers dug into his hair and he breathed deeply, screwing his eyes shut again. 

Who was he? Who was he really? Was he just a tag along? Obeying the whims of those around him? 

WHO WAS HE?

In frustration he stood and threw his whip, the only thing he had on him at the time,, and startled Shass. The other man called after him, but Kaim was beyond hearing, stalking his way deeper into the crypt, needing to be alone. The light all but faded away, plunging him in darkness and still he walked, his breaths sharp against his ears, the musty smell of corridors centuries abandoned filling his nose with each inhalation.

A shaft of light interrupted his storming and he stopped, gazing up at the cracks in the stone that allowed that small pittance of moonlight to drift through. For a long time he merely stared. 

Who was he? 

Carefully, he dredged up every memory, every decision he’d ever made and examined himself. Was there anything he could claim of himself that was his own? Entirely his own and no one else’s decision? Despair washed over him when he came up blank. His head slowly bowed, his eyes overflowing with moisture. His ponytail draped over his shoulder and slipped in front of his chest, swinging into his wavery field of vision. 

The breath stuttered in his lungs.

His hair. All his life he’d had long hair, and though owners had insisted it be trimmed to keep it at a manageable length, they allowed him to keep it long. It had been long his entire life. For as long as he could remember. Hazy memories drifted back to him, a child in a dance school, learning the steps with his dance brothers. Even then it had swished past his shoulders and he struggled to think. Were they all required to keep it long? 

No. No, he remembered an older boy who had it shorter. He had brown hair. Kaim’s hair was his choice. HIS choice and no one else’s. Relief washed over him and the tears renewed, but for a different reason. The words he’d spoken to Fenris drifted back to him. His hair was always long because it always had been. Because he’d wanted it that way. 

Heart swelling with happiness, he lifted his head and stared at his pinpoint of light, the tiniest ray in a void of darkness. The analogy was not lost on him. His hair. His hair had always been _his_ choice. He wanted to dance. 

So he did.

Amongst the coffins, with no one to witness but the long dessicated corpses of men who had subjugated and tormented his people, Kaim danced. 

\---

It was hours later before Fenris finally found him. He’d wandered in the direction Shass said he’d disappeared to, Kaim’s whip wrapped in one hand. Kaim was sitting cross legged, half in a trance, staring at a small crack of light struggling to make itself known in the oppressive darkness. 

“Are you alright, Kaim? What are you doing in here, all alone?” Fenris eyed him worriedly, stepping up to the sarcophagus Kaim was perched on cautiously. He still hadn’t acknowledged Fenris’s presence. 

“I found it.” Kaim grinned, still staring at the light. “I found what’s mine.” 

Fenris eyed him, deciding he wasn’t a danger and slipped up beside him. “Oh? And what’s that?” 

“My hair.” He finally tore his eyes from the light and looked at Fenris with a happy grin. “It’s the one thing they’ve never taken from me. It’s been long my whole life, even before slavery. I wanted it long, my teachers told me they’d cut it if I didn’t take care of it.” He beamed proudly. “The magisters decided to let me keep it because it assisted with my image of ‘feminine beauty’.” He laughed. “But it doesn’t matter. It was still my choice to have it in the first place. It’s mine. All mine.” 

The monologue took Fenris aback slightly. “Kaim, what’s this about?” 

“I realized my entire life has been dictated by someone else.” Kaim slid off the coffin and wandered toward the light, looking up at it again. “Everything, what I wore, my dancing, what I ate, my skills. Even after I was freed the Dalish clan told me what I needed to do, what I needed to learn, where I needed to be.” He snorted. “Tamsas said they might have even forced me to take a wife and bear a child, with a male lover on the side if my wife allowed it. After them it was the Inquisition.” 

He turned and regarded Fenris. “I was so conditioned to obey that even when I had freedom I still sought someone to follow, someone to tell me what to do.” He held out his hand to Fenris, smiling when the other elf recoiled. “No, I don’t mean that you did it deliberately. I was conditioned to seek that out. And you were conveniently moving in a direction I found appealing. It was easy to fall into following again.”

Kaim paused, glancing up at the light once more and Fenris began to wonder if he was missing something. What was it about that crack in the wall that was so fascinating?

“I need to find who I am. I need to discover myself, figure out who Kaim is. Without anyone else’s influence, without interference. I need to be...me. Whoever that is.” He turned to face Fenris, features full of determination. “I will work with you one last time. We have one more attack planned. Once that is complete I plan on leaving. Perhaps I should go to Kirkwall, finally see ‘my’ home. Maybe make it my own?” He paused, then his face split in a grin. “I wonder what decorations I’d like?” 

Fenris couldn’t help grinning back. “You will need to inform me when your remodeling is complete. I’d love to see the home that belongs to Kaim.” 

If possible, Kaim’s grin grew wider. “We’ve already discussed this. You must be my neighbor!” 

\---

Desperation mounted within Dorian. He had to find Kaim. The Senate put out a kill order on “those responsible for these travesties” just that morning. Meaning if they were spotted, anyone and everyone was authorized to kill them on sight. Servants and slaves included. And a tidy reward was offered, a pittance to a magister, but the offer of freedom and fortune to a servant or slave was a powerful thing. The draw for the magisters was their safety via the deaths of the “murdering scum.” 

There were only a few houses left that could be possible targets for the elf duo and he studied them fastidiously. One of them held the answer he needed. His two best candidates fortunately were close to one another and he set out, waiting anxiously for something to happen. 

Which inevitably it did. 

The offer must have been too much for the staff to pass up. A cry rose up loud enough to be heard a few blocks over and Dorian spurred his mount, making haste to the manor in question. He veered his horse, avoiding the main gates that had been thrown open, guards pouring out into the streets, shouting for the perpetrators to be found and eliminated. 

Fear clawed at his throat as his horse’s hoofbeats thundered through the streets, seeking a familiar shadow. 

Relief rushed through him with the force of a fist to his lungs when he spotted a silhouette he’d never mistake slipping up the side of a building on the heels of another shadow, undoubtedly Fenris. They were too high for him to reach, but he spurred his horse to the building they were scaling. 

“ _Amatus_!” 

The closer figure’s head snapped around to look down at him, familiar turquoise gems glimmering out from under his shrouded hood. Without hesitating he threw a small wrapped bundle, sized to fit snugly in his palm. Reflexively Kaim caught it, gazing down at him in bewilderment. “I expect an answer!” He hissed up sternly before turning his horse and thundering away, not wishing to draw attention to his location. 

The two elves barely made it back to their hideout by dawn. On the roof they’d split up, skirting and hiding along rooftops all night long, hoping to escape seeking eyes. Kaim was so focused on his escape that he had tucked away the package and forgotten about it until he finally arrived back in the catacombs shortly after Fenris. 

The warrior shook his white head. “Does Pavus not realize how incredibly dangerous that was? What if he’d been spotted with us? Or worse, led them to us? What did he throw at you anyway?” 

Kaim collapsed against his sarcophagus tiredly, head lolling in a negative shake. “I have no idea, I never managed to check. Been busy running.” Now buzzing with curiosity he dug through his cloak until he found the wrapped bundle, holding it up for inspection. It appeared to be a small box wrapped in silk. Leave it to Dorian to make even a delivery expensive. Kaim snorted in exasperated affection before unwrapping the silk to find a satin box beneath. It looked like a jewelry box. Fenris crowded closer, curious to see what it was too. 

What? Had Dorian enchanted a better necklace for him? Kaim cracked open the lid and gasped. 

There, sitting against a cushion of silk, was the most beautiful ring Kaim had ever seen. But it wasn’t unfamiliar; he’d seen it before. It was Dorian’s mother’s wedding ring. Kaim couldn’t breathe. 

This meant that not only was Dorian asking him to marry him, but he’d gotten his mother’s approval and she’d given them her own wedding ring to tie the knot with. It was a family heirloom, ancient and worth a fortune. That ring alone could buy all of Hightown. Probably most of Lowtown too. Nevermind, he could probably buy all of Kirkwall with it. Not that anyone would want to. 

And he’d had it casually sitting in a pocket while he’d run through the city. Immediately he closed the box and clutched it tight, feeling insecure just holding such a precious relic. 

In light of their earlier conversation, Fenris worded his question carefully. “What answer will you decide to give him?” 

Kaim’s head snapped around and he stared at Fenris wide eyed. Dorian’s offering was overwhelming. He almost felt as though he couldn’t say no. But that wasn’t right. He couldn’t say yes simply because he felt he needed to. Emotions buffeted him like a hurricane and he clutched the box tighter, curling in on himself. 

“I-I...I don’t know.” 

Fenris made a contemplative face, both eyebrows raised. “A decent enough answer. Do you want my opinion?” 

Kaim thought on that carefully before he nodded. “I do.” 

“I think you need time to consider it. Follow through with your plan. Go to Kirkwall like you’d wanted. Think about it carefully, discover who you are, then give him an answer when you can answer for yourself.” Fenris watched him roll it over in his mind. 

“You’re right. Thank you. You’ve been such a good friend.” He threw his arm around Fenris and hugged him close, the box still clutched tightly in his hand. 

“You are most welcome, my friend. And we will be neighbors, like you wanted. I promise.” He pulled back and smiled down at Kaim who beamed up at him. 

\---

This time, when the crystal warmed, Kaim answered it. He’d never done this before and he was so nervous, holding it on his open palm like he might break it. 

“Midnight. Your gardens near the outer gate. I’ll wait fifteen minutes before leaving.” And he closed the crystal. He knew it was brusque, but if he didn’t get it out he’d never follow through with this. 

The moon cast long shadows through the garden and Kaim was there much earlier than he’d told Dorian. He was extremely nervous, wringing his hands as he waited in the shadows, invisible to the naked eye. 

Apparently Dorian was nervous too because he was early also, making his way through the garden wearing a light, summer robe that made Kaim’s heart ache. Dorian was so beautiful. He really didn't deserve him. 

Waiting only long enough to ensure it wasn’t a trap and that Dorian wasn’t early to set wards to capture him, not that he thought he would, but you could never be too cautious when all of Tevinter wanted you dead, he finally stepped out of the shadows. 

“Dorian, what in the void is this?” He didn’t mean to sound so angry, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, his emotional turmoil boiling over in a tumult of words. He snapped the box open, displaying the priceless ring to glitter dazzlingly in the moonlight. “You just throw a priceless heirloom at me in the middle of an attack? Your mother’s wedding ring no less? As what? A proposal? After leaving me at Halamshiral with that asinine and stupid conversation we’d had! Leaving me all alone after all that, _this_ is how you finally respond?!” 

“You made yourself a little difficult to get ahold of,” Dorian chuckled lightly, crossing his arms and gazing down at Kaim softly. “So, is that a yes?”

Kaim felt so out of his element, his heart aching, wanting so badly to simply give in, but he had to do this right. “If you have to ask then maybe you don’t deserve me.” 

“I am willing to spend the rest of my life attempting to be the man you deserve.” And that was it. A dam burst within Kaim and he threw himself into Dorian’s arms, the Tevinter catching him easily and nearly crushing him against his chest. Dorian buried his face in Kaim’s hair, tears leaving tracks on both men’s cheeks. Kaim pulled Dorian as close as possible with his remaining arm, sobbing into the silk of his collar, the cold ache in his chest and stomach finally beginning to melt away, soothed by Dorian’s touch and presence. It felt like he could breathe again after having been confined in a sensory deprived void. Warmth flooded him and his skin tingled in every place they connected, his head dizzy with joy. 

His breaths heaved thickly, tears flowing freely now. He clung to Dorian as though his life depended on it. His existence had been so bleak and full of hatred without Dorian, brimming with pain, sorrow, and misery. Dorian was his light, his life. He gave him a reason to be other than senseless hatred and he gasped his relief, his throat so tight with emotion that he couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to. Slowly Dorian sank to his knees and sat on the ground, pulling Kaim into his lap who wrapped around him, climbing higher so he could throw his arm over Dorian’s shoulder, curling it around and burying his fingers in his much longer hair. That would take some getting used to. 

In turn Dorian wrapped Kaim in both arms, as though afraid to let him go, fearing he’d dissipate like smoke if he did. His fingers tangled in Kaim’s hair and he reveled in the achingly familiar contact. 

Delicately he pulled Kaim down off his shoulder and removed the box from his hand, pulling the ring free and holding it out to him. “Does that mean you will?” 

Kaim hesitated as he gazed down at it, then surprised Dorian by placing his palm over it and pushing it gently back in Dorian’s direction. “I have been doing a lot of soul searching and self-evaluation. I don’t think I’m ready to commit myself to you when I don’t even know who I am. I need time. To figure me out, to learn...what I like?” The last few words lilted up and he smiled uncertainly up at Dorian through eyes filling with tears. “I want to find out...what color I want to paint the rooms in my home. What kind of decorations I want to buy. What books I’d like to fill my library with. Maybe I’d like to learn a new language? Or a new form of dance?” 

Dorian beamed at him, the pride clear on his face and he nodded, his own eyes brimming over with tears. “I could not think of anything I desire more than that. Though I wish to wed you more than life itself, I know I have wronged you severely. Through our years together, though it was better than other masters, I still did not allow you the freedom you needed. You still were shaped according to my needs. And I am-” Dorian choked up, gathering Kaim into his arms and squeezing him tightly. “I am so sorry for that.” 

Kaim buried his face in Dorian’s silk clad shoulder, sobbing silently for a few moments before he managed to collect himself. “Perhaps in a few months...you can visit me? And ask again?” The words were timid, as though Dorian might rescind his offer. 

“You may have as much time as you desire. I will always be here, forever yours.” 

Kaim wound his arm around Dorian’s waist, holding him close, his tears staining the expensive silk. 

“I built an eluvian for you,” Dorian whispered and Kaim pushed back to look him in the face, an astonished expression on his own. “That was what I had been trying to tell you, all those months ago in Halamshiral. I was close to completing it and I was going to give it to you as a gift, but you ran before I could explain. I wanted you to remain where you would be safe, and the eluvian would allow me to visit you as often as either of us desired.” Reverent fingers traced the elegant arc of Kaim’s eyebrows, across his cheekbones, and down his jaw, as though reacquainting himself with something precious.

“Dorian,” Kaim choked out, “I-I’m so sorry-” 

“No.” Dorian pressed his thumb to Kaim’s lips to stop his words. “Do not apologize. I handled it poorly and did not consider the toll losing your arm, the Inquisition, and most of your friends had taken on you. I know Solas meant a lot to you and his betrayal was much too fresh for me to assume you’d consider my leaving as anything but yet another betrayal. The list of trustworthy people in your life has been a tragically short one and for me to act as I did-” Dorian paused, gathering himself mentally and he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I am sorry, Kaim. I will never betray your trust again, I swear it.” 

“You didn’t, I misunderstood-”

Dorian interrupted him again. “I will brook no arguments. Forgive me or not, I will not seek any apology from you.” 

Kaim surged up and captured Dorian’s lips, both men sighing heavily in relief at the familiarity, the comforting press, the taste of one another. 

“You are my everything, and I will wait patiently until I can call you my husband,” Dorian promised against Kaim’s reddened lips.

A soft sob escaped Kaim. They were going to be all right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget to give constructive criticism!  
> For those interested, my tumblr is enaykin.tumblr.com  
> I post art and updates under my art tag there.


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